


Under My Skin

by Renmackree



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Bodyswap, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Time, Frottage, Full Shift Werewolves, Knotting, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Only second season with no Alpha Pack, Scent Marking, Slow Build, Topping from the Bottom, Witches, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-17
Updated: 2013-08-20
Packaged: 2017-12-20 10:32:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 36,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/886219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renmackree/pseuds/Renmackree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In his defense, Stiles wasn't even trying to find his way into the supernatural tonight. He had gone to a normal party at Danny's after their summer Lacrosse practice , met a normal girl who seemed interested in him, left with her to go to her normal apartment in the hopes of having normal sex for the first time.</p><p>But, then again, when has anything normal happened to Stiles Stilinski?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is post second season AU, with no Alpha Pack, no death, set the summer before Senior year.  
> (Takes place June 2012-September 2012)
> 
> Enjoy.

Stiles nearly triped on a root that had been covered in the brush of the forest, his hands tied behind his back making it hard to keep balance. He righted himself at the last minute, heart beating faster as he tried to escape his chasers.

_Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck_

That's usually the first thing that runs through Stiles' mind when shit goes down, and tonight is nothing new. You would think that with all his training and preparation with the wolves, he'd be able to handle his own in a fight.

But no. Here he was on a Wednesday night.

On the full moon.

Running for his life.

From a coven of Witches.

In his defense, Stiles wasn't even _trying_ to find his way into the supernatural tonight. He had gone to a _normal_ party at Danny's after their summer Lacrosse practice, met a _normal_ girl who seemed interested in _him_ , left with her to go to her _normal_ apartment in the hopes of having _normal_ sex for the first time.

But of course that's how he ended up bound and gagged in the preserve, mostly naked, covered in ancient ruins, encased in a ring of fire, with loud Latin chanting ringing in his ears. He had managed to roll himself off onto his feet and raced through the dense trees in the middle of what he hoped was the wine drinking portion of the program. He couldn't get the damn gag off and his wrists were starting to chaff from the rope tied tightly around them.

 _Could my life_ _get_ _any worse?_ He thought, just as he tripped and went sprawling down a small hill and into something headfirst.

“Awww look, he wanted to play tag!” the girl cooed, grabbing Stiles by his hair and tugging him up to face her. “Well, looks like I'm it.” she let out a cackle and the other women slowly walked around the two of them chanting.

 _“Alli permutat anima kimota. Alli permutat anima kimota. Alli per–“_ the chanting was cut off by the sudden claws ripping the main Witch out of the circle and tossing her to the side like a rag doll.

“Iffac!” Stiles cheered through his gag, the floppy haired teen smiled and bore his fangs at the Witches. Boyd and Erica walked out of the shadows, their teeth and claws bared as they walked up and paced before the other women. And low and behold from the shadows came the Big Bad Brooding Wolf, Derek Hale.

“VERMIN!” the main witch screamed as she brushed herself off. Derek just snarled at her claws out and took a stance. “This is _our_ sacrifice. Find your own meat, animals!” Erica let out a snort as she punched one of the Witches out cold.

“Oh my god, Stiles are you a virgin sacrifice?” she asked with a lazy drawl, sending an open mouth wink to the bound boy. “I can take care of that problem if you wa--”

“Erica.” Derek warned, his eyes never leaving the Witch.

“What? Boyd's into Threesomes. Isn't that right Isaac?” the wolf flushed at the mention of his name, tackling his own witch to the ground and knocking her senseless.

“This is not the time to talk abou--” but Derek didn't get the rest of the sentence in as the Witch jumped at him with a silver knife flailing. The wolf sidestepped, raking his claws over the back of her party shirt and tearing through it like paper. She screamed, flinging herself at him once more and managed the get the knife in his shoulder. Though, where there should have been a grimace, Derek now had a wide smile.

“Self defense.” and his claws raked through her throat. He dropped her body to the forest floor like a sack of potatoes, blood spluttering out of her throat as she turned to look at Stiles.

 _“--mutat anima kimota.”_ she finished the charm as her body went still. Derek snorted, kicking the body to be sure and then turned to Isaac.

“You, bury the body. Erica help. Boyd, bring the sacrifice home.” he turned on his heel, walking in the direction the Witches came from to sniff out their origin. Stiles took a deep breath when Boyd removed the gag, Isaac and Erica grabbing the body of the witch and dragging her in the direction of the Hale house.

“Thanks Derek! Nice to know I'm worth saving still.” Stiles called after the wolf, knowing full well he could hear him. But there was no response.

“You alright?” Boyd asked, slicing the ropes from Stiles' chaffed wrists and stepping back so Stiles could rub them.

“Yeah yeah. Just was nearly a virgin sacrifice for a coven of witches on a Wednesday night, when I should be in bed. Sleeping. Dreaming of things that _aren't_ trying to kill me... Y'know... the usual. You?” Boyd just smiled, patting Stiles on the bare shoulder and looking over him.

“I've been better.” and the two of them walked towards the Camaro.

Stiles immediately jumped into the shower and washed off everything that _remotely_ looked like something the witches might have drawn on him. (which led to a lot of false alarms with his freckles and moles) He spend maybe an hour or so in the hot water, soaping up and then rinsing, then soaping up again. He brushed his teeth like, a _thousand_ times to get the taste of the forest floor out of his mouth and then walked into his room fully ready to pass out.

Of course, that meant Scott was there.

“Oh my god! Stiles you should have _called_ ” the teen said, his jaw clenched tightly. Normally Stiles would comment to Scott that he _had_ called him, left him a voice mail that may or maynot have just said _“Dude, guess who won't be a virgin in the morning!”_ but still.

“Well, I was a little tied up.” Scott still didn't look happy, his eyes flicking over Stiles as if to make sure the boy wasn't _too_ badly injured. When he was mostly satisfied, he walked over and patted Stiles on the shoulder.

“Ok... sorry... I should have been there for you.” he sighed, looking away. “I mean, seriously. How did _Derek_ know?” Stiles frowned, having not really asked any questions about the night and then it hit him.

“Oh! I must have ran into Hale territory or something when I was trying to escape the Witches--” Scott's eyes went even wider.

“Derek just told me you got into _trouble_! He didn't say there were WITCHES!” Scott was on him now, lifting his arms and turning him around. Stiles snorted, pushing the wolf away and crossing his arms.

“I'm _fine_. Nothing _happened._ The Teenaged Mutant Brooding Werewolves and master Splinter totally were there to get my pale ass out of the fire.” Scott blinked, tilting his head and cracking a smile. “You just imagined Derek as a rat didn't you?”

Scott just gave him a knowing smile and the two of them laughed it off. Finally, after much convincing that he was too tired to get into anymore trouble, Scott slipped out of the window and into the night. Probably back to Allison's.

Stiles had every intention of going right to bed. After he went on the internet for a little. He just wanted to know what the hell the _Latin_ was that the Witch seemed so desperate to finish in her last breath of life.

Google Translate brought up little to nothing. True he could have been spelling it wrong but he highly doubted “Ali changes kimota soul” was the right translation of the spell. He really wished he would have taken Lydia up on those Latin lessons now.

Team Human had been dwindling in the side wind since Lydia decided to go to London with Jackson for the summer and Allison had given up her hunting ways (for good this time, Stiles watched her burn the crossbows). Stiles was all that was left, unless you counted Deaton who really wasn't _on_ a team per-say. And Danny, who had guessed everything their Junior year and soon became an intricate part in the whole shebang.

But still, two humans a team does not make.

He closed his laptop, rubbing his eyes with his fists and yawning deeply as he rolled from his desk to his bed. He flopped on top of the covers, rolling into them and grabbing for his phone.

Which of course was in the woods. He grumbled to himself about how he seemed to be loosing more and more phones as time wore on with the pack, but he was too tired to do anything about it. He found himself asleep within seconds of turning over.

When Stiles woke up, he was so hungry he felt like he could eat and entire deer. In fact, the deer sounded really good to him. He rolled off his mattress onto the floor and lay sprawled out for a moment just enjoying the cold floor.

Sure, to the outside eye it might seem like he was being clumsy in the early morning, but Stiles had been doing this since he was a kid and old habits died hard. He curled on the floor, rolling around for a little and then finally opening his eyes.

To see this wasn't his floor.

He stood up as quickly as he could, looking over the room he was in. The walls were bare, almost cell like, and all the windows were covered in black curtains. He let out a little groan as he noticed the large bed and the dresser that was nearly empty. _Nothing_ could tell him where he was.

He walked to the door finding it led to a small bathroom with a sink and toilet, a small shower in the corner. No mirrors, just a tooth brush and a straight razor. Stiles frowned, wondering _whose_ room this was.

He closed the door, now really glad he hadn't decided to just whip his morning wood out and go to town. However, Stiles felt the _increase_ of want to do just that. His body seemed to be _gagging_ for it, the air around him charged with _lust_ and _need_. He could almost _smell_ it the way it came off in waves, choking around him and telling him to _take_.

He _really_ needed to get laid.

Stiles stretched slightly, pulling his hands over his face and rubbing it awake. Which was weird because when the hell did he get stubble? He looked down at his hands, the morning haze finally settling down and sending 'good morning' signals to his brain.

“Oh what the--” he slapped his mouth shut, nearly swallowing his tongue in shock. _That wasn't his voice_. He bit his lip, looking over the body he was now _in_. This was not his chest, not his arms, not his ass... oh god... he looked down, a pair of sleeper pants blocking his view from the bottom half of his borrowed body. But, even without looking, he _knew_ it wouldn't be his.

 _Shit shit shit shit shit._ He thought, trying to find a surface to look into. What the hell was this? What the hell was... he finally found a cell phone in a pair of jeans on the floor and with shaky hands flipped the phone.

Derek Hale stared back at him. He slid through the contacts on Derek's phone, holding it up to his ear and listening to the ringing.

“Shit shit, C'mon Scott... answer!” Stiles grumbled, though it sounded _extremely_ weird coming out in Derek's voice. He didn't know exactly what had happened, but all he needed to do right now was talk to his best friend.

“What do _you_ want?” the cold voice on the other end told him Scott must have not been expecting this. Good, maybe Derek didn't know he was part of the Invasion of the Body Snatched.

“SCOTT! Oh my god, thank the heavens, Listen. Dude, this is gonna sound _super_ freaky, like... Freaky Friday Freaky, but DAMN IT! It's only Thursday and I don't know what to do with myself, and OH GOD this probably sounds to _crazy_ comin--”

“STILES?!?” Scott's voice took on a new tone, one that was flooded with concern.

“OH YES! YES IT'S ME.” Stiles let his body, er-- Derek's body relax as he collapsed on the bed and nodded hard. “Yes yes yes.”

“Why the hell do you sound like Derek? Why the hell are you using Derek's _phone_.” it seemed the latter was the most scandelous thing that Stiles could have done, so the boy ignored it.

“Because! I. am. in. Derek's. BODY.” he let out a yelp, that sounded more dog like that he usually would have made. But... this was Derek.

“OH SHIT! Is Derek in your body?” Scott asked, his mouth suddenly connecting to Stiles' brain.

_His Dad._

“Hell, oh my god, Scott. GET OVER THERE. NOW NOW NOW!” Scott hung up after that, Stiles getting up and tripping over the legs of his sleeper pants and falling face first into the floor. Pain and the smell of blood filled his nose.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD!” Stiles screamed, holding his-- Derek's -- now broken nose gingerly. “Could this day get any worse?” three heads popped out from the stairwell leading out of the room. Erica, Boyd, and Isaac all looked over him with wide eyes.

“Derek?” Isaac said finally, Stiles realizing his nose had been healed as he gazed back at them. Clearing his throat, Stiles shot them the dirtiest look he could muster in an attempt to fool them. However, when Erica's sly smile crossed her face, he knew he was lost.

“Sup chew toys?” Stiles said, hoping to lighten the mood. Though when Erica's smile was joined with Boyd's and Isaac's, he knew he was fucked.

Stiles and the pack made it over to the Stilinski house after they all had a good laugh at Stiles' expense and the teen tried to dress Derek's body without looking at the wolf more than he had too.

He already had an inferiority complex, thank you.

Scott's bike was haphazardly strewn on the lawn as he pulled the Camaro up into the driveway by his Jeep and fumbled with the spare key under the potted plant. They walked up through the stairs, Stiles feeling awkward as he opened his own bedroom door.

As soon as they were all in, Stiles found himself pinned up against the door by... _himself_ and let out a whimper that probably didn't ever belong coming out of Derek's mouth.

“What the hell did you do, Stiles?” Derek growled, though it sounded less threatening coming from the teen's own voice. The scowl Derek had plastered over Stiles' face didn't help either. It was like a cross between a grimace and constipation.

“Oh my god! I thought we were past the whole _wall shoving_ phase in our relationship! Jesus Derek, stop _touching_ yourself!” Stiles cracked, letting out a little laugh that made the entire room _cringe_. “Note to self: do not laugh in this body, it is creepy and sends fear into the hear--”

“Shut. Up. STILES.” Derek snarled, slamming him harder into the door. Stiles blinked, licking his lips as he let his mouth hang open slightly as he thought about what to say. “And for god sake, keep my _mouth_ shut.” Derek dropped him and stalked over to Stiles' bed to cross his arms and brood.

Which looked ridiculous.

“Ok. So... now that we've established it isn't _just_ me going crazy, what are we going to do?” Stiles asked, shoving his hands in his pockets and then deciding that probably looked just as stupid as Derek brooding in his body.

“Well... we could call Deaton?” Scott suggested, Derek letting out a snarl what really just sounded like a snort from Stiles' mouth. Stiles however smiled and patted Scott.

“Awesome, yeah. Let's talk to him.” Scott rose a brow, slipping a little bit away from Stiles.

“Dude, don't ever smile like that again. It looks like you want to _eat_ me.” the whole pack agreed, shooting looks between Derek and Stiles.

“Fine.” Derek finally muttered, standing up and looking over the group with a dark glare that normally would have gotten the room in silence. Now, it just made Erica bubble over with laughter and Isaac slap on a sloppy grin.

They had their work cut out for them.

When they arrived at Deaton's Vet Clinic, Stiles was getting a little nervous about everything that was happening. What if he was _always_ stuck in Derek's body? What if he had to actually _be_ an Alpha wolf for the rest of his life? Stiles didn't even know how to control his own body sometimes, so how the hell was he supposed to control himself as a _wolf_?

“Stand still.” Derek snapped, Stiles' face pulled in a deep scowl.

“Dude, would you stop with the face? I look more stupid than usual.” Stiles quipped back, giving him a furrowed brow back. The two stared at each other, Stiles finding it alarming to be looking into his own eyes when trying to go toe-to-toe with the sourwolf.

“Control yourself.” Derek said finally, turning away first. “You made my Alpha eyes flash” Stiles blinked, looking down and sure enough his nails now had a little bit of a point to them. He shook them away and scrubbed his hands over his face.

“Ug, this sucks!” he crossed his arms and pouted as Deaton walked in. He blinked, looking between Derek and Stiles and then letting out a knowing 'Huh'.

“I see you two are victim of a Body-Switching spell. Any trouble with witches these last few weeks?” Stiles and Derek shared a look while Erica cleared her throat and smiled.

“Yeah, last night. Little virgin was going to be a sacrifice until we showed up.” she smirked, crossing her arms and leaning into Boyd like he was a wall. The bigger teen didn't see to mind though, wrapping his arm around her waist protectively. A sudden spicy scent filled Stiles' nose and he let his jaw drop.

“Oh holy FUCK! I can _smell_ that you want to _do_ her Boyd!” everyone in the room looked instantly uncomfortable, Stiles clamping his mouth shut and mimicking a key locking his lips together. He grabbed one of Derek's – Stiles'? – hands and place the invisible key in it and patted the hand closed. Derek just rose one brow and turned back to Deaton.

“You said a _Body-Switching_ spell? As in there is more than one?” Deaton nodded, smiling softly.

“Yes. Usually the person who casts the spell determines the type of spell, there is the typical 'I'm in your body, you're in mine' spell, or there is a whole host of 'I can switch bodies with just the words' spells. Most spells--”

“The witch said Alli permutat anima kimota three times.” Stiles said, finding it rather difficult to be quiet in a situation like this. Derek nodded in agreement, the vet looking between the two of them.

“Might I just say that this reversal of Derek talking and Stiles staying quiet has even _me_ a little uncomfortable.” the pack nodded in agreement and Scott made a little 'hell yea' comment. “Anyways, that spell? Alli pernutat anima kimota... He/she/it preoccupies the soul of others through Kimota...” Deaton paused, grabbing a book from under his desk and flipping through it quickly. “Through the Namesake.” he looked up. “Did you say each others names?”

Stiles thought for a minute, thinking about everything he had said that night then he groaned.

“I did sarcastically say Derek's name as soon as my gag was off... it was the first name I said after the spell finished.” they all turned to Derek, the man letting his face slump as he looked to the ground.

“I threatened Stiles under my breath after I heard him say my name.” he muttered, crossing his arms and looking up at the vet. “What does this mean? Is there a way to reverse it?”

Deaton was quiet, looking through the book as he pointed out the spell. Derek took the book, Stiles' fingers leafing through the pages with agility the teen didn't know he had. But of course, Derek was going to be a _much_ better him.

Stiles couldn't even really work Derek's body without feeling like he was puffing his chest out too much or tripping over the larger feet. He had found it too difficult to drive in the Camaro to begin with, but add in the new fifty pounds or so of muscle and body he couldn't even cross his legs without looking stupid.

But _Derek_ , for some reason, could make Stiles' body look like a fucking dream to have. The motions were fluid, long limbs moving like they had a purpose and that they didn't just flail uselessly around. Derek made Stiles look like a normal person, mouth completely shut and eyes steady in concentration. He was jealous.

“Full moon.” Derek grunted finally. “It was on a full moon... we have to live like... _this_ for a month?” Deaton cleared his throat, tapping the page and shaking his head. Derek let out a snarl and looked up. “A _BLUE_ moon?! There isn't another one of those until _Augest_. You don't expect me to...” he looked up and down his borrowed body and then snarled at Stiles.

“You should have stayed _home_ last night.” Derek growled, this time getting it right with Stiles' voice. Stiles let out a whimper and cowered slightly, making Erica burst out in fits of giggles.

“Oh my god, best day ever.” Derek shot her a look, but she didn't seem phased by the snarl of teeth from Stiles' face.

“Y'know, I'm starting to think that this is going to be the best three months of my life.” Stiles said dryly, looking down at the body. A thought then occurred to him.

“How am I going to go to the BATHROOM?” the whole group looked at him with a large 'why did you open your mouth, Stiles' look. The boy huffed, crossing his arms and sulked.

“It's going to be _weird_ is all I'm saying. _Touching_ the other person's.... WHAT?” Derek had grabbed Stiles' – Derek's – hand and all but flung it away from his body. Stiles paused and then let his eyes get wide as he looked over him. “OH MY GOD! Ego much! I'm not going to—”

“Stop. Talking. Now.” Derek growled, and Stiles did.


	2. Chapter 2

 They all decided the best course of action was to try and get Derek comfortable without his wolf and then to get Stiles in control of the wolf. In short, a training session in the back of the old Hale house.

“Alright, give me some Eye of the Tiger, Chariots of Fire, I wanna run up the stairs of an art museum and lift my furry hands up in the--” Stiles stopped when everyone stared at him, his hands half raised in the air and a smile plastered across Derek's face. “C'mon, Rocky? Gonna Fly Now? Really?”

“Shut up” Derek grumbled from the side, trying to bench-press weights and finding it frustrating when he could only do fifteen reps.

“Hey! Don't wear my body out! I need that for things later in life, like, moving.” he pouted, looking over the group and sighing. “When the hell is my Mr. Miyagi? I thought you said he would--” Stiles was thrown to the ground, his teeth clacking from the force as he moaned in pain.

“Wasn't there a saying? When the student is ready, the teacher will appear?” Peter Hale grinned, placing his foot on Stiles' – Derek's – back and squishing him to the floor. “I don't think you're ready, but since I'm looking forward to beating up on you, I'm here.”

Stiles jerked under his foot, with a surprise jarring Peter off and onto the floor for the forest. The teen grinned wide and struck a pose.

“That's right, who's the big, BAMF wolf now?” he let out a mock howl that erupted into an _actual_ howl. That earned Derek slapping a hand over his mouth and pulling him down to the ground again.

“SHUT.UP.” He snarled, putting Stiles' foot on his chest and leaning in really close. “Of all the stupid, childish, naïve, _idiots_ who had to find their way into my body. Why the hell was it you?” Stiles had to remind himself it was Derek talking in his body, not himself saying these things.

“Mh forrw” he said through the hand, pulling it off and looking away from his own face. “I really didn't... mean to. That time.” he bit down on the lip and felt something like shame creep over his face. Which was weird, because Stiles thought he lost his shame a long time ago.

Derek stood up, looking over him with something and then shook it off as he walked away. He didn't even offer a hand to Stiles to help him up. Stiles rolled up but was kicked back down by Peter who smiled hungrily at him.

“Get up with just your feet.” he stated, “Flip up, control the strength.” Peter looked him over slowly, smiling. “You need to be used to your body before tapping into the power of the wolf.”

“Oh my god, forget Mr. Miyagi. You're Giles from Buffy! Quick say something snarky about Americans in an British accent! OH! No, just say 'For as long as there have been vampires, there has been the Slayer. One gi--”

Peter slammed his elbow into his stomach and Stiles lost his breath, growling as he rolled up and tackled Peter to the ground by the neck, gripping him tightly.

“Now, nice to know the wolf still _lives_ inside Derek. How about we dial him down a notch though.” Stiles blinked a little, looking down to the claws that were firmly around the throat of Peter. Stiles stood up, brushing himself off. Peter jumped up, dusting off his jacket and smiling.

“Well, shall we begin for real this time?”

“OH my god. I'm going to _die_ from this lack of _food!_ ” Stiles groaned as he was knocked down for the bajillionth time that afternoon. Derek and the rest of the group had gone on a burger run as the training began to turn from Stiles controlling his aggression and desire to let the wolf out, to Peter beating the shit out of Derek's body.

“You'll be fine. Get up and try it again.” Stiles grumbled as he rolled off the ground and shifted his fangs and claws out. He always felt weird, wondering if it was just because this wasn't his body or if this was _really_ how it felt to be the wolf. Either way, he hated the feeling.

“I don't really _feel_ like being a wolf anymore. Can we just sk--” Peter's fist connected with Stiles' borrowed face, sending him to the ground and sprawling him out. He sighed, getting up and rubbing his jaw. “I think you're enjoying this _too_ much.” he felt the crick of his body as _something_ fell back into place and he let out a moan.

“Maybe.” Peter kicked him in the gut now, sending him on his back. Stiles thought about not getting up, he also thought about hiding in his bedroom for the rest of summer and just watching Anime. Maybe catching up on all the books he had been missing out on, edit Wikipedia, ignore the urge to kill on the full moon.

Ok, so maybe hiding wasn't the best plan, but neither was getting the crap kicked out of you by Peter.

“Let him eat” a voice, _his_ voice broke over, Derek coming back with a huge bag of.. Stiles sniffed the air.

“Oh sweet lord, is that a bag of _only_ curly fries?!” Scott beamed at him, nodding as he sat down next to him and cracked his other bag open to reveal a pile of bacon cheeseburgers.

“Trust me, I know what it's like to suddenly be a wolf.” Stiles nodded, grabbing a burger and wolfing it down without too much chewing.

“Holy shit, these taste _amazing_!” Stiles moaned, licking his lips and grabbing another burger. Derek just watched him with a look before handing over the bag and walking to talk with Peter.

Stiles, being the ever curious man, listened into their conversation with his new found wolf ears.

“Derek, as much as I _enjoy_ beating up on your meat suit, I don't think this is going to teach him to control the wolf. What he needs is--”

“Not something I want to show him. Now, is he going to be alright in my body?” Derek asked, his voice a little lower pitched as he tried to convey seriousness. Which Stiles had previously thought was impossible with his voice.

“He'll be fine. It's you I worry about, Derek” Stiles could feel Derek tense up at the statement. Peter's voice low and in control.

“I think Stiles said something about Lacrosse practice and parties. Derek, you are going to be a teenager.” the older wolf grinned wide, patting him on the shoulder and walking towards the group. Derek didn't seem happy about this concept, grumbling low as he followed Peter over.

“Ok, when you tell him, just relax and smile and be a little hesitant. Oh! But not too hesitant, he'll pick up on that. And... ahh... just be nice. Don't threaten to rip his throat out or throw him against a wall just--”

“Stiles.” Derek interrupted the soliloquy, shooting him a dark look. “I know how to talk to your father.” they were sitting in the Camaro in the Stilinski driveway, trying to figure out the best way for Derek and Stiles to handle this. For right now, they decided that Stiles spending the night with Scott was the best course of action.

Derek got out of the car, stretching slightly and making his way to the Stilinski door. Stiles closed his eyes, trying to listen to the conversation from the car. He found that this power, super hearing, was his favorite part of the whole body switch. Also, the healing was pretty wicked.

Tuning into the conversation now, Stiles could hear the calming heartbeats of his father and Derek, the slight stutter of something and then.

“Dad?” the voice sounded normal, like he had been practicing it for a while. Stiles could almost see how his father would look up, the eyes crinkling with a small smile as he urged Stiles wordlessly to get everything out. “Scott was wondering if I could stay over tonight.”

“I'm amazed you actually asked.” the sheriff replied, smiling. “Alright, but the toll is the dishes.” Stiles snorted, imagining Derek protesting the work and crossing his arms in a huff. But, shock beyond shock, Stiles heard Derek _laugh_ slightly.

“Ok, Dad. I'll hop to it.”

“Damn right, Son.” there was the sound of a hand being clapped on a shoulder and then the shuffle of bodies moving in their own direction. Stiles, sliding out of the Camaro and up the side of the house. He felt pretty sneaky as he slid into his bedroom window silently and began rooting through the clothing and such.

He managed to grab his DS and laptop, knowing he wouldn't survive the summer without those, and then went through the bookshelf in hopes of gathering some of those. So, of course, the door opened and the sheriff walked in.

The two of them stared at each other, Stiles a little wide eyed as his dad took a deep breath and then spoke in a low voice.

“He's not going to Scott's is he?” Stiles didn't know how to handle this, how would _Derek_ handle this? WWDD: What Would Derek Do? He set his jaw and furrowed his brows, nodding slowly and silently.

“He's going to be at your place.” this wasn't a question, it was a statement. And while Stiles knew how _he_ would react in this situation, Derek was a mystery.

“Because you two are...” here, the sheriff trailed off, allowing Stiles – Derek – to fill in the blanks.

“Fucking.” Stiles tried, throwing up a shoulder shrug for added effect. The Sheriff, at first, was wide-eyed and open mouthed. Then, and this part stung, he laughed. He laughed so hard that tears were coming from his eyes and he had to clutch the door frame to steady himself.

“Oh! Oh my... I didn't know you were a funny guy! All those times we were in the interrogation room together and you never cracked jokes? I didn't think you had it in you!” the man straightened up, looking over Derek once more and letting a sigh of relief flood through him.

“Not to be mean, but to be honest... You don't look like someone that Stiles would be interested in. For one, your hair isn't red--”

“Strawberry blonde.” Stiles corrected, but the sheriff took it as 'Derek' being funny again and nodded.

“Yeah, that. And you're kinda...” he motioned to Derek's body, and then nodded down stairs “and he's kinda...” he made a small spastic motion with his arms to symbolize Stiles.

“My son is a fine catch, don't get me wrong. But--” he said, looking over Derek. “You'd probably break him.” that made Stiles laugh softly, the two of them sharing an easy moment. Finally, silence set in and the sheriff cleared his throat.

“It's... good. That he's making friends other than Scott. I... I was worried. But-- I see him around with Lahey and Boyd all the time, Boyd even drove him home the other night from the party. I..” he smiled to Stiles, nodding. “I'm feeling better about leaving him alone, knowing he has friends. Knowing he has older people looking out for him. Even if --” he paused, looking over Derek.

“You didn't kill Kate did you?” Stiles shook his head, swallowing hard and gripping his fists tightly. “But you wish you did.” the Sheriff filled in, looking over the posture Stiles has forced Derek's body into without meaning to. Stiles paused, looking over his father and took a deep breath.

“Some days.” Stiles wasn't even talking from Derek's point of view, he himself had wanted to kill Kate for what she almost did to Scott, and he guessed for burning down Derek's house. But that was just a minor part of it.

“Glad you didn't though. Melissa says you've been watching over Scott and Stiles when we can't. And this might sound a bit terrible, but Stiles needs a little extra watching.” the sheriff said slowly, running a hand through his hair. “That kid's been raising me since Aria died... It's good that he can be a kid every once in a while, y'know?”

Stiles felt his heart sink, did he worry his father that much? He always hated lying to him, hated being _that_ son, but there was nothing he could do. He then felt his heart rise.

“Mr. Stilinski. I have to tell you something. Ms. McCall knows, so it's only fair you know too.” he took a deep breath. “Scott, Isaac, Boyd, Erica... me? We're--”

“Derek.” there was a voice from behind them, Derek walking into the room with a somewhat confused expression on his face. It grew hard when he saw the two of them talking. “What's going on?”

“I'm telling him the truth” Stiles said, not breaking eye contact with the Sheriff. Derek growled a little.

“That's not your secret to _Tell_ ” he said quietly, though if Derek had been in his body, the red alpha eyes would have flashed. Stiles, however, didn't back down.

“Yes it is. Mr. Stilinski--”

“John, you can call me John.” John said softly, looking between Stiles and Derek like he was confused. “Is this something I shouldn't want to know about?”

“Yes””Probably” Derek and Stiles said together, the two catching eyes and sending looks at each other. John just rose a brow and crossed his arms.

“One of you, spill it.” surprisingly, it was Derek who spoke up first.

“Derek is a werewolf.” he grunted, crossing his arms. He nodded to Stiles who slowly let his fangs and claws slide free. The sheriff, however, just laughed.

“Honestly, you don't think Melissa and I talk? I've known since after you were taken by that 'Gerard' after the Lacrosse game.” Derek let Stiles' mouth hang open, his eyes wide as he gazed over the man. Stiles, managing to keep his shock from showing on his face, slid the fangs and claws back in.

“Though, I am a little surprised my son didn't ask to be bitten too.” he turned to Stiles' in Derek's body and pointed a finger on him. “I want him human until he's 18. Then he can decided for himself if he wants to be--”

“Trust me, I don't want to-- Stiles said without thinking, looking over to Derek who was now looking away from the two of them, arms crossed and defensive. And suddenly he realized that Derek _didn't_ want to bite him. Didn't want him in the pack with the others. In fact, the only reason he probably kept Stiles around was so _Scott_ would continue to be in the pack. It hurt, knowing he wasn't wanted.

“Good. Now, have a good weekend boys, I'll be at the station. So if I get _any_ reports on drunk teenagers and wild fires, I'll be there.” and with that the Sheriff walked out of the room.

“OW!” Stiles yelled as they were back in the car, Derek having thrust his head into the steering wheel once more. “What the--”

“You _know_ what that was for. Drive.” he ordered, throwing Stiles' backpack in the back seat and crossing his arms in a huff.

“You know what? Fuck this.” he grabbed Derek's borrowed head and slammed it into the dash board lightly, making him yelp in pain. “Yeah, you like that? It's called _human_ _pain_. And I feel it every time you do something _shitty_.” he was about to do it again when Derek let out a whimper and curled his hands over his head. He let out another whimper, looking over to Stiles and growling.

“I didn't _do_ anything you didn't deserve.” he snapped, turning away and sighing. “Just, fucking drive.” he rubbed his head some more, making Stiles feel almost sorry he had done it.

Almost.

They drove in relative silence to Derek's loft, Stiles not wanting to say anything and Derek still whimpering in pain. When they finally got to the loft, everyone was there. And by everyone, Stiles meant everyone.

Allison and Chris Argent sat on the couch, Scott between them and Danny off to the side on one of the arms. Boyd and Erica were on the loveseat, looking over as Stiles and Derek walked in and went straight to the kitchen where Isaac and Peter were sitting on the counters drinking soda.

“Well, well, about time you two showed up. What did you do? Get lost on the way here, Stilinski?” Peter asked, teasing his nephew as he walked over and gave Stiles' body a head rub.

“Whoa! Hey! Bad touch on my body! Don't think that just because Derek's inside me you can get all hands-y too!” Stiles waved his hands in the air, suddenly realizing how _wrong_ that whole sentence sounded.

“Oh my god, NO! No I didn't... no! Stiles does _not_ want to be the filling of a wolf crème pie.” he then realized he was just making things _worse_ and proceeded to flap his arms.

“NO! OH my god! I didn't! NO NO NO! Stiles No likey! No no no--”

“Oh would someone shut the buffoon _UP?_ ” Peter asked, rolling his hands through his hair. Stiles clamped his mouth shut, looking over to Scott for assistance. But of course the boy was distracted by Allison and her wonder dimples. He sighed, sliding up onto the counter with Isaac and offering a small grin.

The boy scooted away. Stiles really hated being in Derek's body.

“Alright, now that I _see_ Deaton was telling the truth, we should probably set boundaries.” Chris was talking now, standing up and looking over the group. “For one, Derek... I mean _Stiles_ , shouldn't be with his father at anytime. He could accidentally scent-mark him or worse. Stiles... _Derek_ should also continue to do what the teen would normally do. Danny and Scott have offered to watch you during practices and make sure people don't give you a hard time.”

Derek grunted, crossing his arms and looking over Danny who was eying Stiles' body _suspiciously_. Not that Stiles really minded, after much pestering Danny had told Stiles he was attractive.

When he shut up.

Which, apparently since Derek was in casa Stilinski, meant now. He really wanted to punch something, like his own face. They all nodded, however, agreeing that this was probably for the best. Stiles sighed, sliding off the counter and walking forward to lean against the wall.

“So, let's see. I have to stay inside and Derek gets to live my life? You know the sad part, he would probably get laid _as_ me before I get laid myself.”

“Probably” Danny agreed, shrugging when Stiles gave him a hurt look.

“No one is doing _anything_ sexual.” Derek growled, turning to Stiles and giving him the dirtiest look he could muster. “Do not touch my c--”

“Oh my GOD! Seriously?! Do you think I-- I mean, it's not like I'm _into_ \-- No offense Danny, but really?” Danny shrugged again, keeping the nonchalant expression as Stiles babbled. “You think I'm going to just plop down and say 'huh, I wonder what Derek's boy _feels_ like when he's or--”

“Ok, I'm putting a vote to ending this conversation!” Isaac said, lifting his hand up and looking around the room.

“Oh c'mon Isaac! This is better than an MTV special. Just let them argue some more, I find the sexual tension amazing.”

“ERICA, SHUT UP!” the two yelled, Derek snapping his teeth and Stiles actually flashing the Alpha eyes at her. She backed off, holding her hands up and wiggling deeper into the back of the love seat.

“Oh my god, really? Can't I have my little OTP moment?” she huffed, nuzzling into Boyd. “Whatever, I vote we just all go to bed.” the group gladly agreed and Derek was led by Scott out of the loft. When Stiles was finally alone in the big loft with just Isaac, he swallowed and looked over the boy.

“Don't you live somewhere?” he asked, walking to the fridge to inspect what Derek had to eat.

Nothing.

His stomach growled and he pulled out Derek's cellphone to dial pizza. Isaac grabbed the phone from him and hung up before shoving it back at Stiles.

“I live here. With Derek.” he said, “We don't call, we pick up our food. Just in case.” Stiles just nodded as the boy grabbed his jacket. “I'll be right back.”

And Stiles was alone.

He didn't know how long he had been asleep when he heard his phone go off. Well _Derek's_ phone. Reluctantly, he picked it up and pressed it to his ear.

“What?” he growled. He thought it sounded very convincing that Derek was the one talking. The other end was quiet for a moment, nothing at all.

“Stiles.” the voice was a little wary, almost far away. Stiles blinked, looking at the phone foe the caller ID. He frowned when he realized it was _his_ number and put the phone back to his ear.

“Derek?” there was silence again and then a small noise that sounded like a whimper. But Derek didn't whimper did he? “Derek er... are you ok?” he asked, shifting a little as he sat up looking for real pants.

“Just can't sleep, your body is still filled with your damn Adderall.” he growled a little, Stiles having to listen in really close to even hear the words.

“Oh... ok? So, you just decided to have a chat with me at... Oh-my-god in the morning?” Stiles teased, Derek huffing on the other line.

“I don't know how to play lacrosse.” Stiles snorted, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah right, I bet you were all sports all the time back in high--” he stopped, there was a small hitch on the other end of the phone and Stiles blinked. “You... you did play sports right? Like... Football or... or Soccer? Basketball?” silence. “Really? None?”

“I couldn't control the shift well enough when I was younger.” he said softly into the phone, Stiles could feel the tension starting to rise again so he moved the conversation forward.

“So, what did you do? Art? Did you draw or paint or--”

“Orchestra.” Derek interrupted. The silence that followed was a little tense. “I played in the orchestra with Laura.”

“Oh, well. That's cool... were you a percussion or like... wind? Oh no! Bet you were string, had a little violin you'd carry to school.”

“I--” he was quiet again, “I don't know why I'm telling you this.” Derek said finally, “I should just--”

“NO please? I just... I want to know, Y'know? If you're taking up residence in Hotel Stiles, the least you can do is--”

“Piano. I would play the piano.” it was soft, like he was telling a secret to Stiles and no one else could know. He felt a small blush creep over his face and tried to think about anything other than _Derek Hale_ telling him something private.

“After school, on Tuesdays Laura and I had private lessons. She would play the Cello, we'd often have duets together at concerts and Mom and Dad would have us play for the family all the time. Annoying really.”

It was quiet again, Stiles feeling like it was his turn to confess something about his past, but he couldn't think of anything.

“My mom used to play the piano.” he said finally, looking down in the bed. “But we couldn't afford one so she would always go to that piano store. The one in the mall? It had that grand out front that said 'try me'? She would sit with me when I was younger for hours, playing pieces and just enjoying it. She said she was going to buy that grand one day, put it right in our living room and play it until the sun came up.”

Stiles rubbed a hand through his hair and then tugged it down remembering that this wasn't his hair to play with. They were quiet once more, Stiles checking the phone to make sure Derek hadn't hung up on him.

“I didn't know that was your mom.” Derek said finally, clearing his throat. “I would, uh, play with her some times. She would always ask to see my sheet music...” he cleared his throat again. “She said she wanted to play with me sometime but--”

“But she never came back?” Stiles filled in, Derek's silence telling him he hit it right on the money. He cleared his throat, closing his eyes as he tried to fight the lump in his throat. Of all the people he could get emotional to, Derek was not his first choice.

“She was good.” Derek said finally, a breath of something escaping him. “I should go to bed. I-- you have practice in the morning. Uh, thanks.”

“Yeah, yeah. If you need to talk y'know--”

“Yeah. Uh. Same to you. Oh and, if you tell anyone I told you this--”

“You'll deny it and rip my throat out. Got it. Night Derek.” there was a pause, Stiles thinking Derek hung up and then.

“Night Stiles.” and when Stiles hung up the phone, he immediately looked up Mozart's Sonata for Two Pianos in D, K. 448, his mother's favorite piece.

And then he curled on his side and cried himself to sleep.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Sigh- I was watching Teen Wolf (again) and Derek was thrown against a piano in his old house, and that sparked my whole 'Derek can play Piano' kink...  
> (http://media.tumblr.com/1bd4fbc6981f56b1ad4e1ddce555296b/tumblr_inline_mftxh8Z1OP1rb57s5.png)
> 
> Also Mozart's Sonata for Two Pianos in D, K. 448 (first movement): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v58mf-PB8as


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Masturbation. There is that in this chapter.
> 
> Also Pain. Man Pain.
> 
> See end of notes for warnings.

 “Ah yes, watching teenaged boys beat the shit out of each other is just how I like to spend my mornings.” Peter grumbled in the car as Stiles and Isaac drove up to Lacrosse practice that morning. Isaac rushed out of the Camaro as fast as he could and hopped over the fence to escape Peter's morning rant.

Apparently he did this every morning.

“We don't have to stay if you don't want to.” Stiles said, though he really wanted to watch and see how well Derek was doing. There might have been a little bit of jealousy too, since Stiles really loved Lacrosse and he liked (most of) the teammates. He even liked Greenberg.

“No, it's _fine_.” Peter huffed, getting out of the car and walking to the stands where Erica and Allison were sitting. They sat down as well, Erica smiling over at them and Allison shyly waving to Stiles.

“Hi.” Allison said, turning to talk to Stiles from the field. “He's doing--”

“Stilinski! It's like you haven't played Lacrosse in your life! Take the damn stick out of your ass and RUN!” Finstock yelled, slapping Derek over the head with his clipboard.

“--better than he was last night with Scott...” she said, blushing lightly as she turned back to watch the field.

“Faster, Faster Greenberg! FASTER STILINSKI!” the team was running laps, all of them keeping a pretty steady pace, Stiles didn't know why the coach was yelling at him. They watched for a little longer, until Erica started to pull the conversation back to something other than lacrosse.

“So, how was waking up in Derek-ville again, Stiles? Did you find it better than the first night?” she asked, leaning against him and nearly _purring_. Stiles felt a little uncomfortable, pushing her away.

“It was fine. I didn't really do much, just slept. Ate. I should probably take a shower tonight..” he paused when she gave him the biggest smile of all time. He frowned, rolling his eyes and sighing. “I'm just going to _shower_ Erica. I wont't _do_ anything else.”

“Right, you'll just wash up and down Derek's naked body while closing your eyes and pretending it was--”

“Ok! We're done with this discussion. Forever. No, you know what? Five-ever. Because four is not enough.” Peter rose a brow as Stiles huffed, the teen settling back into the bleachers with his shoulders slumped.

And he brooded.

Damn was he good at it.

The practice came to an end, all of them going to the showers when Finstock took Derek aside and Stiles _happened_ to listen in.

“What the hell, Stilinski? You were like a freshman on the field. And seriously, I think _Greenberg_ made more saves than you today. And Greenberg _sucks_. What happened?” Derek shifted slightly, looking down at the ground.

“I'm not feeling like myself, coach.” he said honestly, Finstock putting a hand on his shoulder and patting it lightly.

“We all have those days when we feel like something we're not. But remember. Lacrosse is all _about_ feeling like someone else! You don't have to be Whateveryourfirstnameis Stilinski on the field! You can be... whoever the hell you wanna be! Tarzan, Hercules, Maximus! You could even be... Be that guy over there. Be muscles in leather! He looks like he could play lacrosse.” Stiles could hear Derek's heart sink from the stands, the man clenching his jaw and taking a deep breath.

“Coach, I'll do better on Monday. Promise.” Derek said resolutely, gripping the lacrosse stick tighter and nodding.

“See to it. Now, go shower. You smell like my great aunt Nillie. And boy, is that a woman you don't want to sit next to on Christmas dinner. Go go go!” he tweeted his whistle and Derek ran off to the showers.

Stiles was waiting for Derek by the time he got out of the shower, taking his leather jacket off and grabbing a stick and ball.

“Ok, so. I'm going to teach you Lacrosse and you're going to like it.” he said, tossing the ball at the man who barely had time to grab it with his hand before Stiles was running over.

“You can't teach me lacrosse over night, Stiles.” Derek frowned, throwing the ball and looked shocked when Stiles' caught it. “I'm not a good listener. You'll get frustrated and give up.”

Stiles huffed, putting the ball on the ground and got down on his hands and knees, positioning his stick parallel. Derek tilted his head and grabbed his own stick. He twirled it in his hands and looked over Stiles.

“What are you doing? It looks ridiculous.” Stiles was stretching out, doing quad stretches and wiggling his ass as he did.

“I'm stretching. Because I'm going to kick your ass and I won't even use your cheating wolf powers! I'll just win by my supreme awesome abilities.” he smiled up from the ground. “Alright, now. Get down here and face-off.” Derek hesitated again, but got down to mimic Stiles' position.

“Shouldn't we put on helmets?” Derek asked.

“Are you scared I'm going to hurt you?” Stiles asked with a waggle of eyebrows and an open mouth. Derek grimaced and Stiles suddenly realized what that might look like on Derek's face. “Sorry, I should learn to control my facial expressions when-- HEY!”

Derek had scooped the ball up in his net and started to race off towards Stiles' goal. He shot a look back at Stiles, eyebrows waggling and mouth open.

“Thought you were gonna kick my ass.” he shouted back, flicking the ball into the net and listening to the swoosh of it going through. “That's Hale 1-Stilinski 0.” he grinned a little, flicking the ball out and going for another face off.

“Yeah, well. That was beginner's luck. I _totally_ \--” Stiles stopped in the middle of his sentence as he grabbed the ball and ran towards Derek's goal. “-- can kick your ass without really try--” Derek ran shoulder first into Stiles' stomach, knocking the wind out and sending him sprawling. Derek grabbed the ball and flung it into Stiles' net.

“Hale 2-Stilinski 0. Right.” he tapped the stick on the ground as he flung the ball back into the middle of the field. “We can call it quits anytime, you know.”

“Oh ha ha. You think you're so smart Derek I-don't-know-your-middle-name Hale. But really, I'm going to start with the ass kicking. Nnnnnnnnnoooooooooooww” he took the ball without a face off, sliding past Derek and racing towards the net without looking back. He flicked his wrist and the ball went soaring, into Danny's net.

“Oh COME ON! That's not even fair!” Danny smiled, nodding over to Stiles' goal where Scott stood. Isaac and Boyd both walked out with sticks, grinning like mad men.

“Let's do a little scrimmage. Isaac, Stiles, Scott. You, me, Boyd. What about it, Derek?” Danny asked, winking at Derek and twirling his stick. Derek let a smirk slide over Stiles' face and twirled his own stick.

“Perfect.”

“You suck. Like huge, hairy ass, werewolf _suck_ ” Stiles sulked as they walked into Derek's loft the next day, flopping on the couch in an angry huff and crossing his arms. “This is me, brooding. Stewing in anger at my best friend's betrayal. How could you? It's Saturday night! We're... we're supposed to go to the party _together_ and we were gonna be _cool_! For once in our lives, Scott, we were invited to the BIGGEST summer BBQ of all ti--”

“Dude, it's weird. And besides, you're like... not you. So... People will know.” Scott said, shuffling his feet and looking away. “It's just a small party, it's not like--”

“But Scott...” Stiles whined. “If I don't go, everyone will talk about it and I won't know!” he rolled off the couch onto the floor and groaned loudly. “Scotttttt”

“Oh my god, Derek! Go to the party so Stiles will stop _whining_.” Peter snapped, Derek looking up from the counter in the kitchen where he was pouring milk.

“No.” he said simply, downing the glass and pouring a new one. Stiles whined again.

“Plllleeeeeaaaaassseeeeeeee?” he begged, looking up at him. “You can get _drunk_ in my body. You can! I'm totally cool with you being booze happy!” Derek actually blinked at that, looking over to Stiles and tilting his head.

“You'd let me intoxicate your teenaged body, just so you could say you were at this party?” the words were careful, thought out and as if he was actually considering it. Stiles hesitated.

“Uh, yeah? Why not? If I was going, I'd totally be wasted. Like, I would be so hammered by the end of the night, Scott would have to drag me back.” Derek turned to Scott who nodded in agreement.

“It's true. Greenberg throws the best parties.” he shrugged a little. “So, does that mean I'm the D.D again?” Stiles looked up hopefully, eyes wide and hopeful as Derek thought for a minute longer.

“The whole pack has to go.” Stiles looked between Erica and Boyd, the two of them agreeing to come. Isaac just shrugged, smiling with a nod. Derek sighed, turning to Stiles. “You owe me.”

“OH THANK GOD!” Stiles let out a little cheer. “Yes! Whatever you want, I am yours on bended knee and bowed head! Thank you, Mr. Sourwolf, SIR!” he mocked a salute from his position on the floor, smiling as the wolves all looked at him with deranged faces.

“What? C'mon. It's been like, two days. We should be used to Derek's face smiling too much.” Stiles pointed out, flashing too much teeth as he jumped up from the floor and stretched. Derek was in front of him in no time.

“No funny business with my body. You are to stay inside and wait until the party is over. I will make sure we are home by midnight.” he growled, making Stiles nod hard as he swallowed.

“Got it! I'll just play video games and read all night. I'm good just...” Derek rose a brow, looking over Stiles before the boy smiled.

“Just make me look cool?”

Stiles did stay inside the loft the entire night, mostly eating left over pizza and junk food while sprawled over the couch and watching something on late night t.v. He would occasionally check the clock, but when it was well past midnight and closer to two, he gave up on the hope that they were coming back to the loft.

He managed to scrape himself off the couch and up the stairs to the bedroom before stripping off any clothing. Throwing the shirt to the side and stepping out of the pants, he flopped onto the bed and rolled around in the sheets. He had already guessed this was the wolf scent-marking his den, and even though it felt weird to know he was mimicking a dog, it was quite comfortable.

Stiles finally rolled himself up into the sheets like a little cocoon, nuzzling into the pillows and was about to fall asleep when Derek's phone buzzed. Stiles growled, grabbing it and sliding it open to read the text.

_**I left Derek, but he's with Danny and Isaac so I'm not too worried. He was pretty drunk so he'll probably be dead to the world in the morning** _ **.** _**Um, I'll come over tomorrow? See how you're doing and if you want to catch that movie still, Zombie Eater 3? Anyways. God this is so weird sending it to Derek's phone. But... Good night Star-shine. -Scott.** _

Stiles grinned, quickly tapping out his response.

_**Awww, Sourwolf had fun. That's good. I hope he drank them all under the table. Anyways, thanks for being the bestest most amazingest bestest friend five-ever!!! :) :) :) Good night MOON- Stiles :)** _

He put the phone back on the nightstand and curled up tighter in the blankets. Despite him being stuck in an overly-broody wolf, life was pretty good. And even though Derek and he weren't ever going to be BFF's and braid friendship bracelets together, at least Derek wasn't threatening to tearhis throat out anymore.

Which was a _huge_ improvement, in Stiles' opinion.

So, with that in mind, of course Derek's body had to suddenly swing into 'horny' mode. Stiles had dealt with this before, if he continued to think about the time when he saw Derek's arm pulsing with the wolfsbane bullet wound, he would lose the erection.

But sadly, not even that softened him. He growled, flipping onto his stomach and rocking into the bed, trying to not _touch_ the throbbing member. Because that was weird. Really weird. It wasn't like Stiles was _curious_ about the wolf's package. No way.

Maybe a little.

For Science!

He just wanted to know if _Alpha's_ possessed a knot. I mean, wolves and dogs did, and since an Alpha _did_ fully shift into a wolf it would only make sense that they have one in their human form. That was the _only_ reason he ever wanted to look down Derek Hale's pants.

For Science.

And, well, sure. He was a little on the awake side now, and Derek's cock was _throbbing_ for attention. Maybe, just a little peak wouldn't hurt. He licked his lips, flipping onto his back and kicking off the comforter. Sliding his fingers down to the edge of Derek's boxer briefs, he fingered the seam of the waistband and gazed at the ceiling.

“It's just... helping a bro out. Nothing sexual, unless you count the whole process of jerking off someone else's _cock_ sexual, but who's got time for speculations like that. It's just, simple, I can't sleep unless it's... flaccid. I'd _totally_ understand if Derek did the same thing... though I don't know why he'd _want_ to...”

Stiles cleared his throat, took a deep breath and slid the boxer briefs off completely. It was the familiar rush of air on a swollen cock that brought a gasp to Stiles' lips, his eyes still trained on the ceiling in an attempt to keep Derek's modesty.

But soon, curiosity for _science_ brought his eyes down to look at the now naked Derek Hale before him.

And yeah, he was going to have a _terrible_ insecurity problem when he was finished with this.

The man was a piece of work that would make the statue 'David' weep tears of pain and frustration. Especially since the _cock_ was much larger than Stiles could even remember seeing. And, sure enough, at the base was a knot.

“Fucking called it.” Stiles muttered, moving his eyes back up to the ceiling as he slowly trailed his hands down the abs and gently wrapped his hand around the thick length. It was shocking, because while the hand around the cock molded perfectly, Stiles' brain was telling him this was _different_ than touching his own. And, technically it was.

He would apologize in the morning with coffee and bacon.

Nothing says 'I'm sorry for touching your dick last night' like bacon.

Back to the task at hand, Stiles slowly stroked the cock the way he knew _he_ liked it. Even strokes on the length and a swipe from the thumb over the tip. But apparently that wasn't enough for Derek. Stiles sped the pace up, _finally_ getting somewhere, and then used his free hand to palm his – Derek's – balls.

He moaned, rolling his hips up into his hands and sliding the one palming his balls to wrap around the base of the cock, circling the knot.

“O-ok, Stiles. You can do this. Just... pressure behind the knot and you should come. Just... don't think too hard about it. Don't... Don't think about how this will _probably_ play out in your next 'Stiles' time'. Because you are _not_ going to think about Derek Fucking Ha—AH!” he let out a shout, the hand circling the knot in tight pressure sending sparks of pleasure up his body.

“Oh my god! Is that what... holy _shit_ this feels fucking—AH!” he moaned again, stroking the cock harder as he flung his head back as let out a growl. Come flowed out of him as he saw stars in the back of his mind. He swallowed, groaning as he calmed down from the high, breathing heavily.

“Oh shit. Oh fuck I just did that.” the weight of his actions sank in as the euphoria of an orgasm washed away, Stiles now nervous and twitching. “Shit shit shit. Good thinking Stilinski. Fuck.” he rolled out of the bed, waddling to the bathroom and jumping into the shower. He quickly turned the water on and danced around in the hot spray for a little.

“Oh my god. On a list of Stupid things Stiles' has done, this is like number... four. Right below Taunting Scott on the first full moon, and right above tripping into a pool of water with a paralyzed Alpha. Yeah, this stupid.” he washed Derek's body off with haste, trying to get the bitter taste of stupidity and the desire to _repeat_ the actions out of his mouth.

So that meant Stiles masturbated in the shower too. He was panting heavily when he came down from it, knees shaking like they couldn't hold up Derek's enormous girth any longer. He braced himself on the wall as he tried to regain control.

“Oh my god... oh my god. The best orgasms of my life aren't even _mine_. What the hell is this?” he finished the shower quickly, drying off and putting on new boxer briefs before looking over the soiled sheets on the bed. He huffed, tugging them off and walking to throw them in the washer. He found spare ones, (Black; no surprise there) and slid them onto the bed before grabbing the comforter and curling up in it.

He took deep, calming breaths as he inhaled Derek's scent all around the room, surrounding him and putting him to sleep.

The next morning, Stiles did make coffee and a full breakfast bar of items. He made sure to include the 'sorry dude' bacon, though he wouldn't tell Derek was he was sorry for. The pack came trooping into the loft, all of them smiling and giddy like they _hadn't_ spent the night before drinking. Scott came in too, chipper and hungry.

“Hey Stiles.” he chirped, taking a plate of eggs and sausages as they all dug in. Even Peter managed to make an appearance before noon to eat with them. The only two who weren't here were Derek and Danny. Which had Stiles a little worried.

“Dude, you _sure_ Derek was with Danny last night? Like, 100% sure that--”

“Trust me. He was with Danny the entire night.” Isaac threw in, smiling brightly. “I even dropped them both off at Danny's house before going back to Scott's. It's totally fine.” Stiles just nodded, smiling as he sat down to eat.

They finished off the food and Erica and Boyd even finished up the dishes before the door swung open and a _very_ hung over Derek stumbled through the door. He didn't even say hello, just made a beeline to the coffee and all but drank the entire pot.

“Good morning, Hangover” Stiles smiled, glad he wasn't feeling the effects of _that_. “Did you drink a whole liquor store of something?” Derek shot him a dark look and he continued to sip from his fourth cup of coffee.

The room was quiet, light chatter about the party was floating around as Stiles listened to it with a smile. Derek's phone vibrated and Stiles picked it up to flip open the text.

_**Stiles- I am** _ **so** _**sorry about last night. I know it wasn't you, and I feel** _ **terrible** _**about it now, but... Well, we were drunk and he just... attacked me. I'm sorry again and I hope this doesn't ruin our friendship. And, well. If you are ever back in your own body and want to relive the experience, I would be willing. You** _ **are** _**very attractive. -Danny.** _

Stiles blinked at the text, looking up to Derek who was leaning against the fridge with his eyes closed and mouth open slightly. _Fury_ radiated through his body for the wolf as he stood up, walking forward and slamming Derek into the fridge hard.

_“What did you DO?!”_ Stiles hissed through fangs, claws digging into the fabric of the shirt Derek was wearing. Stiles could _smell_ Armani on him, his body shaking as he slammed him into the fridge again. “What. Did. You. Do. DEREK?!”

He was silent for a little, the look of shock slowly sliding from Derek's borrowed face and turning into something that looked like.

_Shame_.

“I didn't mean for it to happen—” Derek started, looking down to the ground. “I--”

“You _WHAT_?” he slammed him again harder on the fridge. “Didn't mean to _use_ my body for _sex_ with _Danny_?! Didn't mean to _tear_ away my _virginity_ as a drunken _HOOK UP!?”_

“Stiles... it's just sex--”

“BUT IT WASN'T YOURS TO _GIVE,_ DEREK!” Stiles lost his grip on the shirt, clenching his fist and slamming it into the fridge door just beside Derek's head. “It was _mine_. You _took_ my virginity. You... you _violated_ me. You _used_ me.” Stiles took a deep breath, turning on his heel and walking to the stairs.

“Stiles, I didn't mean--” Derek started, the entire loft looking at the two of them. Derek walked forward, putting his hand on Stiles' shoulder. The teen shrugged it off, turning around and snarling.

“You're no better than Kate.” and he stomped up the stairs leaving a crestfallen Derek below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess there is Dub/non con since Stiles didn't want the Sex.
> 
> so sorry for that.  
> But, technically Derek was in control and he instigated it, I mean... just fair warnings.


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles had never been really good at staying mad at someone. Like, in his sophomore year when he tried to be mad at Scott, all the boy really had to do was look at him with big eyes and a crooked smile.

He was a push-over.

And, he _guessed_ it was alright that he would no longer be a virginal sacrifice. He was meaning to get rid of that pesky thing since forever. And technically, the whole _losing_ it was what he had been nervous about. So, in the long run, Derek had done him a favor. And Danny was a friend, so that just made it alright.

He was still mad at Danny for actually _letting_ Derek do that, but after the third or fourth IM apologizing and saying how drunk and stupid he was, Stiles had to forgive him. Especially since Danny offered to have sex with him when he was back in his own body.

Which was pretty cool of him.

It did, however, bring up the heated thought of how _Danny_ was attractive and then made Stiles question what he was actually attracted to. Since, well, he _got off_ on Derek's body thinking only 'I'm touching Derek Hale's cock'.

Lydia was his dream girl, he didn't want any girl other than her. But, that didn't mean he didn't want a _boy_. He had always been sure to say Lydia was his dream _girl_ and not dream _person_. So, what did that make him?

He spent the week thinking about all of this information, mulling it over and recalculating it before finally realizing he was perfectly alright with his virginity being given to Danny. It didn't even matter to him that he was a guy, and as much as he protested earlier, Stiles always had wondered what it was like to be kissed by a guy. Or a girl.

Finally on Friday, after letting Derek _stew_ in the wrath that was Stiles' pretend anger for a week, he grabbed Derek's phone and dialed his own number. He thought he would get the answering machine, but there was a rustle and finally a hesitant voice.

“Stiles?” Derek sounded upset, like he was just waiting for the teen to call. Stiles knew that desperation, biting his lip and sighing.

“Have you been taking my Adderall?” Derek was silent for a little, the phone rustling as Derek switched shoulders.

“No.” the voice was weak and hesitant. Stiles sighed, running a hand through the hair and grunted. Suddenly all the quick-whips and semi-angry ranting he had planned on giving flew out the window and Stiles suddenly became concerned for Derek's well being.

Fucking push-over.

“Why the hell not? My body's _kinda_ addicted to it. Are you like, a masochist or something?” there was silence and Stiles ran a hand over his face. “Don't answer that. Look, I'm not mad anymore. It's fine. I'm ok with this... lack of virginity. I mean, _I_ didn't have the sex so it's not like it counted, right? I mean, I technically haven't had sex and that's all that matters I--”

“I broke our rules.” Derek said finally. “I said we couldn't do anything sexual and--” he let out something that sounded like a whimper. “It's only fair...”

“Whoa, wait hold on, I'm not going to go out and have sex! If it makes you feel better I've uh, jerked off a couple times... so that's fair right? I mean--”

“Stiles.” Derek cut into his speech, not even a hint of change in his voice. So Derek didn't mind he had masturbated in his body? Cool. “It's not the same” he continued. “I... I don't mind. Ask Erica, she--”

“NO! I do _not_ want to have sex with Erica. Thank you, this conversation has now reached its final destination. Please exit at the nearest door and watch your step.” there was actually a chuckle over the phone and Stiles had to make sure he was still talking to Derek. They were quiet for a while, Stiles scrambling to find something to say.

“Uh, so. You should take some Adderall before the symptoms get too bad. Like, how long have you been without it?” Stiles got up from the bed, stretching and walking around looking for clothing. He should probably do some laundry today, maybe catch up on his shows. Or he could just curl up on the couch and watch really bad movies with a bag of Popcorn.

“A week.” Derek said finally, shifting. “I didn't feel like taking it... after the party. I just never remembered to take it after that.”

“Shit. You must be _tired_. How the hell did you get through lacrosse practice?” he grabbed a shirt, sniffing it and pulling it away in disgust. He really needed to clean.

“Barely. I'm beginning to see why you're always _hyper_. I'd rather be buzzing with energy than fatigued.” Derek huffed in the phone, Stiles gathering all the laundry he could find and shoving it in the hamper to take downstairs.

“Well, take it. Then call me in like four hours and tell me if you're feeling better, ok?” there was silence and then a throat clearing.

“I'm sorry.” Stiles stopped, blinking as he took a breath.

“Oh my god, did the great Derek Hale just say--”

“I'm sorry, Stiles.” he repeated, making Stiles bite back a smile. “I'm so sorry I was stupid and... and not thinking. I was wrong. Very wrong. And if I could, I would take it back. Not only was it your first time, but it was with a _guy_ and--”

“Oh, no, I'm totally fine with it. I mean, I know what I said but.. I thought it over, and, it actually would have bothered me _more_ if it was a girl. Because that's reserved for Lydia.” Derek was quiet for a little, Stiles taking the opportunity to carry the basket down the stairs and into the laundry room portion of the Loft.

No one was home, Isaac having taken to sleeping over at Erica and Boyd's apartment and Peter not coming over as often to annoy Stiles. He had began throwing the clothing into the washer when Derek spoke up.

“So. You like men?” it was like Derek was trying to hold his breath in, waiting for the answer.

“I, er, Yeah. Guess I do. I mean, I was researching it and it actually was, er... _stimulating_ if you know what I mean. Like, it's not that I'm _strictly_ into girls or _strictly_ into men... I guess... I just put my hand down and don't care what I find.”

Silence again, Stiles wondering if he confessed too much about his newly discovered Bi-sexuality, but then there was a grunt.

“So... what about you? I mean, Danny said you made the first move so obviously you--” he made a small 'heh' noise, wondering if he was getting too close to personal land. Derek was quiet for a long time, the man finally taking a deep breath.

“To be honest, I've only slept with Kate before this.” there was a dead-tone in his voice, like he was talking through cellophane as he said it. “I just... let your body take control of what it wanted.” Stiles nodded softly. So Derek wasn't into men, whatever, no _huge_ loss.

Its not like Derek and he would ever in the _history_ of mankind have _anything_ other than platonic friendship.

“So, there goes the theory of sexuality being all in your head.” he chuckled, though it seemed like the moment had been killed with the mention of the K word. So, Stiles sucked it up and went for it.

“I'm sorry. About saying you were like Kate? Because you're not. You didn't burn my house down for one, and well, for two you didn't use your 'older male' charms to trick me into sex--”

“It's fine.” Derek was gruff now, the friendliness in his voice having been hollowed out and replaced by the usual dead-pan tone.

Which sounded completely terrifying in Stiles' own voice.

“No, it's not fine. Look, I want to make it up and since you didn't get any of my 'I'm sorry for touching your dick' bacon, let me make you dinner or something. Like, the whole pack can come over and we can show them we're not fighting. Just back to being... whatever it is we are. Acquaintances.”

“I've seen you naked and you've touched my cock, Stiles. I think we're more than acquaintances.” Stiles felt his heartbeat race as he turned the washer on and slammed it shut.

“So... so we're like... Friends?” he asked softly, biting his lip as he hopped onto the washer. There was a pause.

“Yeah, Stiles. We're friends.”

The day mostly consisted of Stiles cleaning the loft and watching Anime on his laptop. He had managed to finish cleaning up his mess from the 'cookie apocalypse' and had just started to gather everything he needed for dinner, when the group all walked in through the front door.

Isaac and Boyd were talking loudly about something while Erica and Allison giggled their way into the living room. Scott smiled wide as he walked into the kitchen and leaned over the counter to watch Stiles throw the meat and seasonings into a pan to ground up and flavor.

“What's for dinner Stiles?” he asked, grabbing a can of tomato sauce and grinning. Stiles grabbed the can from him and mocked slapping his wrist with a wooden spoon.

“Stilinski lasagna. And yes. I'm making like four pans of it, so there _should_ be left overs for you to take to your mom. _And_ my dad. Ok? Deal?” Scott rolled his eyes and nodded.

“Yeah yeah, I know. I've been making sure he's eating healthy foods. Trust me, I haven't seen him eat a doughnut in days.” Stiles smiled warmly at that.

“Thank you Scott, you can have a cookie.” he pointed to the rack of chocolate chip cookies he made while he danced around in the kitchen that afternoon. Scott grinned even wider and grabbed one of them before humming his thanks.

“Stiles, forget doing anything else. You should just be a kept man for the rest of your life. Cook for me and Allison _all_ the time.” Scott was on his third cookie by now, licking his chocolate off his lips.

“Right. Because that would be the best job for me. Hey dad, sorry. I'm not going to college, Scott and Allison need me as their Au Pair for their multitude of children!” Scott punched him in the shoulder and blushed.

“ _Stiles_.” the man huffed, crossing his arms and taking a last cookie before Stiles shooed him out of the kitchen. He returned to the meat in the pot, puling his laptop over and pressing play again on his show. He wasn't really paying attention when a voice was right by his ear.

“What are you watching?” he jumped, slapping the spoon up onto Derek's head and making the man stumble back. Stiles had to laugh a little as he watched his own body flail in an attempt to keep himself righted.

“Sorry! Dude, you can't sneak up on me when I'm cooking. I get in the zone and totally forget there is anything going on around me.” Stiles offered a hand to the man and hoisted him up onto his feet. Derek brushed himself off, huffing but nodding.

“Sorry.” it was so _strange_ hearing that word come from Stiles' mouth as a deep growl. Derek had managed to get the hang of Stiles' voice and had actually managed to growl properly. Stiles still had to work out some of the kinks with Derek's voice.

Like how everything he said sounded annoyed.

“What are you watching?” he asked again, turning his face to the laptop where the anime was playing.

“Oh, uh, Puella Magi Madoka Magica. I've been meaning to watch it for a couple seasons now since it was all over the internet but, it came out kinda around the time that we all went Kanima hunting, so I never had the chance...” he smiling a little, tilting the screen so Derek could see too.

Derek looked over it slowly with calculating eyes. He grabbed one of the kitchen chairs, sliding onto it and watching the show as Stiles continued to cook.

“What's it about?” he said slowly, bringing Stiles' legs up underneath him. His eyes never left the screen as the sounds echoed through the large kitchen. Stiles turned to look at Derek who was _enraptured_ by the bright animation and sounds.

“Uh, so there are these things called witches that cause accidents, disease, and suicide when they interact with humans. So this familiar – that cat thing right there? – his name's Kyubey. He finds girls that he can make contracts with to turn them into magical girls. Like, he grants a wish for them and they gain these powers.” he scratched the back of his head and chuckled. “Sounds kinda cheesy and I don't know if you'll like--”

“Shut up, I'm watching.” Derek muttered, and Stiles just shrugged.

He continued to saute the meat and vegetables for the lasagna, pouring the sauce in and stirring it until it was hot and ready. He layered the noodles and the cheese, pouring half the sauce and meat mixture over, and then continuing the process with all four pans. He then layered a final cheese and noodle topping on all of them and shoved them into the oven.

Derek grunted when the second episode was over, making Stiles move to set up the third one. He was about to leave the room to check on the others, when Derek pulled up a chair for him so they could watch together. Stiles smiled a little and settled in the chair.

“How do you like it?” he asked during a quieter scene, his eyes flicking over to take in Derek's reaction. The other man was quiet, shrugging as he gazed over the screen.

“I've never seen Manga before.” Stiles had to snort a little, turning back to the laptop.

“It's Anime. You watch Anime and read Manga.” he corrected, but Derek was too involved in the story to even notice.

The timer went off around halfway through the third episode, making Stiles get up and check everything before setting it for another twenty-five minutes and settling in the chair once more. He watched Derek this time, though, knowing his face would give him all the commentary he needed about how the wolf liked it.

Finally, as the third episode ended and the last timer went off, Derek turned to Stiles and frowned.

“You have the whole show?” Stiles nodded smiling as he pulled the dishes out and ripped the tinfoil off.

“Yeah, did you want to borrow it or something?” he pulled out the garlic loaf and cut it before popping it into the oven for a few minutes. Derek was quiet for a little, looking over the end credits as they rolled.

“Can I watch it here?” Stiles was about to protest when he realized something. Derek might be homesick, might be craving his own clothing and his own bed.

“Sure, I'll just stay with Sc--”

“No. I mean, together.” Stiles frowned a little, looking over him slowly and lifting a brow. “I... I have to do something to make up for--”

“Oh my god! We can drop it, because honestly the more you mention it, the more _not_ ok I am. Alright? So just... forget it. No more, stop talking.”

Derek looked over him, trying to say something but not sure exactly how he wanted to go about it. The timer went off for the bread and Stiles quickly took it out and began getting plates and silver out.

“Can we watch it together as friends?” Derek tried again, looking up as Stiles' hand stilled grabbing the glasses. They looked at each other, Stiles gazing into his own eyes and finding something inside him stir. He didn't know what it was, but it wasn't a bad feeling.

“Sure. I'd like that.” and Derek smiled.

They all ate until they were full, Danny even swinging by to see Stiles (and apologize once more). Stiles sent the half the leftovers home with Scott and the other half with Erica, Boyd and Isaac, urging them that he didn't need it. Reluctantly, they all left, leaving Derek and Stiles alone for the first time in a while.

Stiles half expected it to be awkward, or at the very least uncomfortable silence. But, shock beyond shock, Derek rolled onto the couch and looked down.

“I-- I don't _smell_ right” he said softly. “I know that wouldn't make sense to you but--” he closed his eyes and curled tighter on the couch. “I just need to smell myself.”

Stiles was stumped.

“So... you want to watch Madoka and cuddle?” he asked, not sure he was really understanding the wolf. Derek, however, nodded slowly. “Dude, that's not really what _friends_ do.”

“It's what wolves do” Derek shot back, his face in a hard line as he went to stand up. “How could I expect you to under--”

“Whoa, hold on. I'm just trying to wrap my head around Derek Hale; Cuddle Man. Ok? It's... different from what I'm used to.” he held his hands up to show he wasn't kidding, trying to get Derek back on the couch. “I mean, I've cuddled with Scott before. Like, he's a bed hog and we've had sleepovers. It only got worse when he was a wolf because... yeah, he was a cuddle monster. So. Give me some time. We've been friends like, twelve hours, and it took me _years_ to be comfortable with Scott.”

Derek nodded slowly, though he didn't look convinced and he didn't sit back down. So, Stiles walked over and smiled.

“Uh. I can give you a hug? I heard I'm pretty good at those. But, I mean. Most people I give them to it's with my own body, so I have no idea about Stiles staring as Derek Hale hugs.... but I can try?”

Silence fell over the room once more and Stiles wasn't even sure he was doing anything right. Then, quietly, Derek crept forward and latched himself to his chest. His face buried in his own muscles as he inhaled deeply. Stiles didn't know if he should hold him or just let him take in the scent.

So, he hugged him. Wrapping Derek's arms around his body and nuzzling into his neck on instinct. Derek's breath hitched as Stiles continued to nuzzle into his neck.

“Stiles. You're scent-marking me.” he said softly, body still tight in his hands. Stiles paused, his face in his own neck. It smelled weird. He could smell the old spice shower gel he uses and the faint hint of grass and dirt from Lacrosse today, but there was something else. He didn't know how to place it exactly, it wasn't something he had _smelt_ before.

But he really didn't have a habit of smelling himself.

“Do you want me to stop? I mean, if you want to smell like yourself shouldn't you let me--”

“It's... it'll mean you're pack.” he said slowly, pulling a little a ways from the man. “It will mean your part of _my_ pack.”

_OH._ Stiles should have seen this conversation coming up. About how Stiles was just a _human_ how Derek didn't want him in _his_ pack because Stiles wasn't _trustworthy_. He didn't really want to have _that_ conversation tonight, especially since he was already tender about... the thing-that-shall-not-be-named.

“Oh, right, sorry. No scent-marking for Stiles. Understand.” Derek looked like he wanted to say something, like he was going to start the conversation Stiles didn't want, but he just fell silent and hugged Stiles.

It was a long moment before Derek broke off the hug and went to sit on the couch. Stiles had loaded up the Anime and settled on the other side of the couch, just their feet touching under one of the fuzzy blankets Erica had insisted Derek get when he first moved in.

It wasn't really cuddling, per-say, but Derek seemed content with this amount of touching so Stiles didn't argue. They finished the Anime late into the night, Stiles so tired that he could hardly keep his eyes open.

“Ug, you know, you can take the bed and I'll just--” he was interupted by Derek growling.

“Not in this body. I said no scent-marking and if I go up in my bed and roll around in this body...” Stiles nodded, licking his lips and scratching the back of his neck. He stood up, frowning.

“Right, wolf's den and everything. Don't want it smelling like a teenaged boy...”

“Stiles, can we _not_ talk about this? I'm tired and--”

“Yeah. Yeah I get. It's fine. I don't... I don't belong to this pack so. Yeah. G'night Derek.” Stiles turned and walked up the stairs two at a time trying to get away from the man.

Once he was in the room he stripped and flopped on the bed with a small 'thud' of Derek's body meeting the mattress. He didn't want to think about why Derek didn't want him in the pack. They had been working as a team since sophomore year. _Two_ _years_ Stiles had been helping the pack in anyway possible, in anyway he could.

And for what?

Derek hadn't even said _thank you_ for the countless times Stiles saved his or any of the pack members lives. It was always _Go home, Stiles_ or _We don't need you, Stiles_ or his favorite Y _ou're just a teenaged Human, Stiles._ Really drove him nuts. This pack would have fallen apart from the beginning had Stiles not stepped up to help Derek in his _hours_ of need. Derek was right, he wasn't pack. Because Stiles didn't want to _be_ in his super secret boy band anyways.

And that was the biggest lie Stiles had told in his seventeen years of life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Puella Magi Madoka Magica is an amazing, if not the most amazing, Anime you will ever watch.
> 
> If you do, watch it in Japanese.
> 
> Also, Sad Stiles is Sad.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. There be plot now  
> 2\. There be feels now
> 
> Also, if you haven't read any of my other stuff... be warned. I take 'This is going to hurt' Very Seriously.

 Stiles woke up to Derek's phone ringing loudly on the bedside table, the boy groaning as he grabbed it and shoved it to his ear.

“What?” he growled, the sound of chatter in the background making him rub his temple in frustration. It wasn't like he had a good night sleep last night. Between him being angry at Derek for not wanting him in the pack and him being angry at _himself_ for even wanting to be in the pack, he spent most of his night tossing and turning.

“Good Morning, Derek. Do you know where my son is?” he sat up, his dad's voice on the other end with a little hint of humor. Stiles licked his lips and closed his eyes softly.

“Morning Sher-- John. Uh, yeah. Stiles is asleep on my couch.” he slid out of the bed, grabbing pants and sliding them on. He didn't really feel all too chatty right at the moment, which probably suited Derek just fine. “Do you want me to wak--”

“That's not necessary. I called, believe it or not, to talk to you.” Stiles licked his lips, pausing in his dressing and sat back on the bed.

“What's on your mind?” he asked slowly, not sure exactly why his father would want to talk to Derek about something without Stiles. He _needed_ to know. There was a small throat clear and then a shift as the door closed on John's end of the line.

“Stiles _cannot_ know about this. Understand?” Stiles nodded his head wildly, then realized he was on the phone.

“Yes sir, understood.” the tension was building up, Stiles not sure if he should urge him forward but then John cleared his throat and sighed.

“In my youth, I was a young cop in the LAPD. Fresh out of the academy, married to the woman of my dreams, and working the biggest case in California. This man, Marcurio Giamatti, had all of the city under his finger and no one could pin it on him. So, they sent me undercover to try and weasel it out on a wire.”

Silence followed, Stiles wondering if he should fill it with something. But, the ragged breath of John suddenly filled the line.

“They found out I was a cop. But... but instead of killing me or – they...”

“John, you don't have to--”

“They raped my wife.” the words came out quickly, like a band-aid being torn off a child. Stiles felt his heart stop for a brief second, his body shaking as he gripped the phone tighter. “The police force sent us to Beacon Hills so that we'd be safe while they finished up the case.”

“Is...” Stiles felt Derek's voice crack, he cursed himself for getting emotional when Derek would have just offered his condolences.

“Nine months after she – Stiles was born.” his heart sank completely, body shaking and his voice low as he spoke the next words.

“Stiles isn't your son?” there was radio silence as the moments ticked by.

“Not biologically.” and there went Stiles' control. He was screaming inside as the claws and fangs slid out and his body shook as he tried to fight off the change.

“Why are you _telling_ me this?” he finally managed to bark out, his face showing Derek's beta form completely.

“Because Marcurio Giamatti's sentence ended today. And chances are, he's going to be coming to Beacon Hills. I know that I can't protect him, but you? You and your... condition? You can keep him safe far better than every cop in this city. I need you to promise me... _please_. Keep my son safe. He's all I have.” Stiles bit his lip, blood welling up in his mouth and his eyes flashed red.

“I promise.”

“Thank you. I... It means a lot to me. I need to get back to work, I'll keep you posted on everything.” and with that the phone call ended.

Stiles sat, phone still clung in his hand as he swallowed hard. Then, something that he never thought possible happened. A low, mournful howl escaping from his throat as he let tears roll down his face.

Derek raced up the stairs, looking over Stiles with confusion and anger.

“What happened?” he asked, their eyes locking for a moment as Stiles sobbed harder. Without another word, Derek was pulling him into a tight hug and squeezing him tightly.

He held Stiles for hours.

“So...” there was silence as the rest of the group sat in the loft's living room. Stiles had explained the bare minimums, not even going into details about his mother or his birth. He had told Derek in the mists of sobs and anger, and that was enough.

“So Marcurio is going to come back for your dad?” Scott asked, licking his lips and pressing his hand to Derek's back, Stiles grateful his best friend could look past the body-switching to offer him comfort.

“That's why I need the pack _and_ Argents to be on high alert for him.” Derek spoke up now, his eyes scanning over the pack, Chris, and Allison. They all nodded in agreement, even Peter seemed determined to keep Derek and Stiles safe.

Even if Derek didn't consider him pack, the others must have. Isaac was offering a strong smile to him and Erica was flashing her claws in preparation. Boyd just sat there, calm as always, but his eyes flashed wolf.

It made Stiles realize how important he was to everyone.

“So, I need full on the clock watch. Since I'm out of the running, Peter. You need to be watching the Stilinski house at all times possible. Scott, if you wouldn't mind assisting him...?”

“Anything for Stiles and the Sheriff” Scott agreed, his hand gripping Stiles' shirt tighter in comfort.

“Isaac, Boyd, I'll need you to cover me when I go to lacrosse practice for Stiles. I don't want to stop his routine in case they have men on him already. I don't want them to be suspicious. I'll stay here from now on, we have to keep Stiles' body safe until the Blue moon... shit.” he turned to look at Chris who was nodding.

“Full moon is next week.” Stiles looked over the group, licking his lips and sighing. It had really been almost a month since he and Derek switched bodies, though it felt like only yesterday.

“I could tie him up in the basement of the Hale house?” Chris continued as Derek hesitated. He looked over to Stiles who just nodded in agreement, crossing his arms in thanks for the subject change.

“I don't want to hurt anyone. So whatever you have to do.” Chris nodded, looking over the group.

“The rest of you have anchors correct?” Erica held up her hand, shaking her head.

“I'll stay with Stiles that night, I don't want him to be alone. It doesn't matter if he's in Derek's body, the first full moon fucks with you.” Stiles smiled warmly at her, the blonde winking at him and crossing her arms.

“Thank you. It means a lot.” Stiles said, Erica grinned wide.

“Anything, Stiles. You're pack!” the room suddenly went still, Derek bristling as the rest of the pack looked down. Except Erica.

“Oh come _on_ Derek. Isaac and I have been telling you to make Stiles pack since _sophomore_ year. He's as much a part of the pack as Scott is. So just tuck your man purse away and fucking scent-mark him. Because if you don't, I wi--”

“NO.” Derek snarled, looking up over the group and gripping his fists tightly. “No.” he said calmer, shooting a look to Stiles as if asking for assistance. Stiles just stood there, wanting to hear the reason behind Derek's obvious disapproval of Stiles becoming pack.

“I think we should just leave.” Chris said, standing up and leading Allison to the door. She smiled and waved at Stiles, making a texting motion to Scott. They left the loft, Isaac and Boyd all but grabbing Erica and dragging her to the door as well. Scott gave Stiles a quick hug, giving him a lopsided smile and raced out after. Peter, however stayed right where he was and just watched the two of them.

“Stiles--” he started, but then paused as the boy shook Derek's head.

“You know what? I don't want to know. Because, you know what? Nothing. I mean, _nothing_ could make this day any worse. In fact, you know what? Nothing _will_ make this day worse, because I'm going to go right back to bed and pretend this is all a dream.”

He turned to walk to the stairs when Derek let out a cross between a whimper and a growl. Stiles swallowed, gripping the banister and turning around.

“But thanks.” he said softly. “Thanks for earlier.” and he walked up.

Stiles spent all his Google-Fu experience on looking up Marcurio Giamatti and anything about his trial. Giamatti or as his associates called him, Mr. M, was one of the biggest supposed crime lords this side of the country. His records, however, only showed a handful of misdemeanors and one glaring _rape_ charge. Stiles swallowed, pressing through the eye-witness account of his mother. Though, to be fair, his mother's testamentary wasn't enough to have gotten Giamatti arrested. There were too many holes in her statement, and any jury could have picked through it and charged 'not guilty'.

Which lead Stiles to believe that Giamatti _wanted_ to be in jail.

The thought wasn't comforting, something fishy was going on. _Why_ it had taken 17 years to get out prison on a rape charge when the sentence was only for seven years? How did he spend the other ten? It was highly possible he had added jail time _in_ the penitentiary, but why would he want to stay locked up when he could be out on the streets? Of course, when Stiles scrolled further down, more questions popped into his mind.

His right hand man Tommy Mercello, had been indited for three accounts of murder prior to Giamatti's trial. All of the victims were the wives of cops who were on Giamatti's cases, sending a shiver up Stiles' back. Was Mercello covering up Giamatti's tracks?

When Stiles read through Mercello's reports, it turned out _all_ his supposed victims had been ruled as 'animal attacks'. Using his father's user name and password, he was able to listen to the coroner’s report for Mercello's first victim.

_“The autopsy is begun at 8:30 A.M. on February 1st, 1993. The body is presented in a black body bag. The victim is wearing a white sleeveless turtleneck shirt and navy blu--”_

Stiles fast forward through the description of the victim, wanting to get to the important part of the description.

 _“-- On the right anterior shoulder, and right lateral arm are a pair of puncture lacerations; one on the right anterior shoulder measuring 5/8_ _th_ _inch by ½ inch and one on the right lateral arm measuring 1/8_ _th_ _inch by ½ inch separated by 4 inches. On the right elbow is a laceration measuring 1 inch by ½ inch. On the right dorsal arm is a laceration measuring 1/8_ _th_ _inch by 1/8_ _th_ _inch. Near the right elbow is a laceration measuring 3/8_ _th_ _inch by 1/8_ _th_ _inch. A puncture laceration is on the right vo--”_

Stiles shut the recording off and scrolled through the images of the report, his mouth growing dry as he looked over the information. He minimized the window and brought up the second victim's reports.

“ _The autopsy is begun at 9:00 A.M. on April 24th, 1993. The bo-- On the right anterior shoulder, and right lateral arm are a pair of puncture lacerations; one on the right anterior shoulder measuring 5/8_ _th_ _inch by ½ inch and one on the right lateral arm measuring 1/8_ _th_ _inch by ½ inch separated by 4 inches”_

He minimized that window, opening up the last case file and swallowing hard.

 _“The autopsy is begun at 9:45 A.M on June 17_ _th_ _, 1993. The body is--On the right anterior shoulder, and right lateral arm are a pair of puncture lacerations; one on the right anterior--”_

Stiles could feel his heartbeat in his ears. Each victim was killed in the same exact way, blunt force trauma and lacerations from an _animal_. But, Mercello's DNA was found on all of the victim's bodies. Stiles quickly thought this through and it hit him.

Mercello was a werewolf.

“How the hell did...” he scrolled through the pictures of the 'accused' and sure enough, the bright flares of his eyes at the camera made Stiles swallow hard. Mercello was a werewolf working for a crime lord. Well, that was a twist. Stiles soon found himself printing off the case files, strewing them over the floor and examining everything. He could clearly see in some of Mercello's photographs the bright _red_ eyes of an Alpha wolf.

Nothing made sense. _Why_ would Mercello be an attack dog for Giamatti? Did the man have some sort of pact with him? Was this like a Kanima type of relationship between them? Stiles wanted to know more about Mercello but after Giamatti had been tried there really wasn't anything on him. He seemed to have effectively taken himself off the map.

Stiles reached for Derek's phone, wanting to call his dad about everything he had found, but stopped. This wouldn't help anything, in fact, it might make thing worse. No, it was best that his dad didn't know everything. Derek, however, should.

 _**I was researching Giamatti and his partner Mercello when I found something interesting. Mercello is an** _ _ **Alpha** _ _**working for him, doing his killing! Is that possible? Can humans and werewolves make pacts? I'm only curious as to why the Alpha would be helping someone like this.-Stiles.** _

He wasn't sure if Derek would even respond, it was around Lacrosse practice and it's not like Derek was punctual with his texting, usually going days without responding. However, minutes later Derek's phone beeped with a new message and Stiles quickly flicked it open.

 _**I've never heard of anything like that. But if this Giamatti offered him and his pack protection from hunters as** _ _ **well** _ _**as a feeding ground, it's possible. Alpha's will do anything to protect their pack, even make alliances they otherwise would not. Or Mercello is just blood crazy and Giamatti is the only way to feed his frenzy. Either way, he's dangerous and we'll have to keep an eye out for him as well. Stay inside, don't do anything stupid -Derek** _

Stiles frowned, the look on Mercello's face was far too comfortable for him to be forced into his situation with Giamatti. The only conclusion Stiles could draw from what Derek said was the blood craze, and that didn't comfort him at all.

Soon enough, the full moon was the only thing on Stiles' mind and he found himself letting Chris Argent strap a collar around Derek's neck in preparation.

“Ok, question. Why do I get tied up like we're in a kinky love dungeon?” he asked, rubbing the collar and growling softly. It wasn't entirely comfortable and Chris looked like he enjoyed strapping Derek's neck in a leather collar like a dog. He clipped chains around the four d rings on it and began locking them to the four metal pipes in the basement.

“Because you're the Alpha. Alpha's have the ability to fully shift if they lose too much control. This is the only part of your body that stays the same size roughly.” Chris tapped Derek's neck, making Stiles wince a little from the leather. It rubbed his neck raw, but the healing kicked in enough that it only irritated him rather than hurt. If the moon didn't shift him, the annoyance of the leather would.

“So, you're saying I'm going to run around like a _dog_ all night?” Chris thought for a minute, shrugging as a smiled crossed his face.

“More like a wolf.” Stiles sneered at him, the chain being tightened. Erica looked over from her binds, arms and legs tied tightly to the metal grate of the basement. She looked a little less comfortable than Stiles, but Chris explained that if Stiles managed to gain control by some stroke of luck, he would be able to control Erica.

Or something like that.

“Alright. You two are all set. Now, Boyd and Isaac will be around sometime in the night with Derek to check up on you two. For the most part just, don't kill each other.” he smiled, saluting and walking out as he slammed the heavy door shut.

“Well, this sounds like a good time to start panicking.” Stiles offered, smiling to Erica who was rolling her eyes.

“To be honest, these bonds are much more comfortable than the one's _Derek_ gave me on my first full moon. Those things hurt like a bitch.” she grumbled a little, huffing as Stiles snorted slightly.

“So, what's it feel like?” he asked, the girl raising her brow slowly and she sagged her shoulders.

“Honestly? Can't you wait like a half hour and find out for yourself?” she paused, looking over Stiles with something and then sucking in air through her teeth. “Oh, are you that scared?” Stiles shrugged, swallowing hard.

“You-- you can feel my emotions?” he asked as she nodded slightly.

“Well, the emotions you're putting through Derek. Like, when you were upset last week about that Marcurio guy? I could feel your anger and your grief... it kinda ate away at you for a while, didn't it? I mean, it's not like we're not used to it. Derek was always pulling off grief vibes, though he's been better this last year... Y'know, when everything was calm and we only had to deal with the occasional hunter?”

Stiles nodded, their Junior year of school had been pretty supernatural free. There was only a few issues with the Argents retiring and other hunters trying to take over their territory, but it wasn't anything they couldn't handle.

And now witches. Kinda ruined their perfect year.

“Yeah, I mean... life was _normal_ in Beacon Hills.” Stiles said softly, looking over his hands and turning his head to watch the moonlight slowly stream towards them. He could already feel Derek's body wanting to pull on the chains, run towards the moon and let the shift happen. It was a little scary.

“Don't worry. I have full confidence in you.” Erica smiled, her own arms shaking at the pull of the moon. Stiles shot her a grateful smile, his eyes flicking back to the ground as he sat down and lay on his back. He felt like he was on fire and he couldn't stop the aching in his limbs fast enough, though cool cement felt good.

“Is it always this bad?” he asked, licking his lips and trying to stop the growl rising in his throat. Erica whimpered in response, Stiles taking that as a resounding _yes_ as he tried to keep his mind calm.

“Rain drops on roses.... and whiskers on kittens...”

“Stiles, I _swear to god_ if you sing the Sound of Music the entire night, I will beat you over the head with your car parts again.” she tugged at the binds, snapping her jaw at him.

“You don't mean that, Erica. You love me.” he teased, though he too was rolling on the floor and snapping his jaws as the moonlight grew closer. Stiles could hardly think about anything but the blood rushing through his own ears, urging him to rip free and _eat_.

“Ha! You wish I loved you. Then... ah! You wouldn't be in this mess...” she growled, pulling on the binds and letting out a whimper. “Because you'd be in my body!” Stiles snorted, shaking his head and rolling on the floor in pain.

“Oh... fuck... I wouldn't be able to stop myself from playing with your boobs. I'm sorry, but they look so soft! Like pillows!”

“Finally I would get you to look at them!” she let out a final snort as the moon came over and she let out a feral howl. Stiles felt it too, the shifting of bones and the urges to _rip_ Erica's throat out in silence. But he flung his clawed hand up into the concrete, dragging five thick mares into the floor as he felt his body shake it's last restraint away.

“I FUCKING HATE YOU, DEREK!” he screamed, watching his hands sprout fur and... _paws_. God he was turning into the full alpha. He let out a howl, thinking about everything that was _shit_ with his life.

He was a werewolf, stuck in the body of a grandiloquent 'you're not good enough for the cool table' asshole, oh and he _just_ found out Giamatti might have an Alpha werewolf at his beck and call.

Yeah, Stiles Stilinski's life was shit.

The shift was quicker than he thought, soon he was in a pile of what used to be Derek's clothing, shaking out his massive wolf body and... nothing. He felt no urge to kill, no urge to maim. It surprised him, all he felt was concern for Erica and her writhing in the chains.

Suddenly, something Derek said earlier and _completely_ out of context, floated to the surface of his thoughts.

_Alpha's will do anything to protect their pack._

Did that mean forgoing their own desires to kill in order to protect their family? Apparently, because suddenly Erica seemed much calmer, her yellow eyes meeting his red. She nodded, closing her eyes and face shifting into calm. He couldn't help but smile at that.

Only, now that Erica wasn't in any danger, the urge to kill and rip suddenly flooded into him. He needed something to anchor himself, needed to think about comfort, which for Stiles was people.

His dad... yeah, not at the moment, he was kinda pissed at him for never mentioning that he was the product of a psycho rapist. Scott? No, Scott wouldn't do. He wasn't number one in the best friend department, but he was getting better.

Lydia.

He could think about Lydia. Her long strawberry-blonde hair, green eyes, standing at five feet three inches, with pale skin and moles down her-- wait, no. Lydia had flawless skin. There weren't any blemishes or freckles or even moles. He swallowed, licking his lips and trying again.

Strawberry-blonde hair, big doe eyes that looked like warm amber in the fluorescent-- Stiles sighed, shaking his head as he tried to think about _Lydia_ damn it! He growled low in his throat, the moon begging him to take over when--

The door opened, and suddenly Stiles felt his body calm and the wolf slowly slink into the back of his mind. Derek, Isaac, and Boyd walked through the large doors and looked over them. Stiles blinked.

His anchor was himself? Well if that wasn't narcissistic he didn't know what was. But, to be honest it made sense. He missed being Stiles Stilinski, missed being the teenager who still couldn't get drunk legally and had little to no social skills. Maybe that's what an anchor was, just something you were familiar with.

Something you could hold onto.

“Check on Erica” Derek said, Isaac and Boyd walking over to her as she lolled in her binds. Derek sat down on the floor, looking over Stiles with a soft expression. “Are you alright?” he asked softly, Stiles wagging his tail.

 _I have a tail!_ He thought, wagging it a little more before turning his head to see it. He was currently chained too tightly for him to chase it, so Stiles whined slightly and turned back to Derek. The man didn't look amused.

“You're father's safe. Peter's watching him with Scott.”

 _That really doesn't comfort me, you know._ Stiles let out a huff, laying down on the ground and licking his jowl. Derek rose a brow and scooted a little closer. Stiles knew he was a little afraid of being bitten, but Stiles _really_ didn't want to make the moon shifting a permanent fixture in his life.

“It was pretty quiet.” Derek said finally, looking down. “I don't think Giamatti is in town, or if he is, he's not looking for you two yet.” there was tension between them, Boyd and Isaac looking over each other before walking out of the room and closing the door behind them. Derek didn't move to get up, his eyes meeting Stiles'

“I don't want to make you pack.” he said, when the silence was getting to him. Stiles whined, did they _really_ have to have this conversation right now when there was no way Stiles could retaliate?

“Because if I make you pack, you won't leave.” Stiles huffed, putting his paws over his ears, though it wasn't a very effective noise blocker. Derek let out a sigh, running his hands through his hair. “I didn't mean-- I don't-- I saw the acceptance letters.” there was a break, making Stiles look up with shock.

“As a pack, back in February, we decided to make you officially a pack member. I went over to your house looking for you and... they were all on your desk. Berkeley, Yale, Harvard, Oxford... all said yes. Full rides, everything. You have a future, Stiles. And it isn't here. And if I make you pack, you'll stay. You'll throw any chance of a _normal_ life you might have.... for this... for us... For m--” he stopped, looking away and letting a low growl escape Stiles' throat.

“I can't do that. I can't watch you throw your life away for this. Because this--” he made a motion around the room, locking eyes once more with Stiles. “This took _my_ life. Took _my_ future. And damn it, Stiles. I won't let it happen to you. Because you're better than me. Always have been, always will be.”

They were quiet for a moment, Stiles swallowing hard as he realized something. Derek wasn't a dick because he didn't care. Derek _cared_ about Stiles. And, as he sat there, the two of them in comfortable silence, Stiles realized he cared about Derek too.

_Oh fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shitty autopsy stuff, I'm not really good at technical.. :/


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have a chapter! I'm going to try and pump them out since I'm going to Alaska next week and won't have internet. Humph.
> 
> So, hopefully this will be over then. Otherwise you'll have to wait...

 Stiles was confused.

Well, more-so than usual, which was saying something. The night of the full moon, Derek had been nice and understanding. He had even brought Stiles burgers and curly fries when he managed to shift out of the alpha form. They talked about Anime and how Derek wanted to try watching another one with Stiles and effectively avoided the conversation about Pack.

But the next morning, he was broody. The man wouldn't even _look_ at Stiles, let alone talk to him. Stiles had to make sure last night really had happened, that he wasn't just _romanticizing_ Derek like he did with Lydia. Because having feelings for Lydia Martin and having feelings for Derek Hale were two _totally_ different things.

Stiles needed to talk to someone about this. He couldn't go to Scott, the boy would just give him those dopey eyes and shift uncomfortably as Stiles talked about _his_ feelings. And it wouldn't help if Stiles brought up the two years of Alison pain he had to listen to, because that would just start Scott on the Allison train of thought.

He could talk to Allison, but in all truth she would probably just smile and nod. She would then pat him on the shoulder and tell him everything was alright and then say he should talk to Scott. Which would make her flash those dimples and Stiles would probably let her paint his nails then.

It's happened before.

And, he couldn't talk to Danny. Or Isaac or Boyd. Because all of them were treading carefully on the 'Derek' subject with Stiles, for different reasons. And he _**couldn’t**_ talk to Erica. Because if Stiles told her he _might_ have a teeny, tiny, itty-bitty, little crush on Derek, she would go full fangirl on him and he would never hear the end of it.

No, what he needed was someone who would listen to him and then judge him harshly. Someone who wouldn't care about his _personal_ feelings and look at the subject objectively. He needed an outsider, someone who wasn't going to go blabbing to the world about this.

Jackson.

No, wait. Jackson is a dick.

Lydia.

Surprisingly, Derek had Lydia's number in his phone. Unsurprisingly it was listed as Red-Head Bitch. Stiles quickly changed the name to Strawberry-blonde Bitch and then pressed 'talk', listening to the ringing as he tried to calm down.

He still had a thing for Lydia, probably always would, but their Junior year they had become somewhat friends in the occult. She was the sassy, smart Scully to his Mulder without all the sexual tension. Well, some of the sexual pining.

He heard a click, breath escaping from him as he tried to think of something to say. But, of course, Lydia was quick to the draw.

“Derek Hale would _not_ be calling me at two in the fucking morning.” she growled, though the tone seemed more of intrigue than anger. Stiles cursed himself, while it was six pm over here in sunny California, it was an eight hour difference in time Zones. This was why he wasn't the brains of team human.

“So, either this is a prank call, or Allison was telling the truth about everything. What is it, _Stiles?_ ” he blushed slightly, licking his lips and clearing his throat.

“H-hey Lydia!” she groaned, shifting on her bed. The sound of her sliding on slippers and padding across the floor echoed, a chair scraping across the floor.

“Skype me.” Stiles blinked.

“W-wait wha--”

“Skype. Me. Is that really so hard of a thing? I could say it in french? Latin? Or maybe send youa--”

“Ok ok! I'll get on Skype...” she hung up, Stiles fumbling to the desk and logging into Skype on his laptop. He frowned as Lydia started a video chat, the annoying sound of the IM's ringing grading on his ears. He answered it quickly and was about to apologize when Lydia held her hand up.

“No. Stop. If you want something from me, you have to give me something too. Shirt off.” Stiles blinked again, licking his lips and furrowing his brows.

“Lydia I--”

“Shirt. Off. Now, Stiles.” her face was calm, eyes calculating in the dim light of her London loft. Jackson seemed to be out, which was kinda a relief, but still. He didn't feel all the up to stripping on camera for Lydia. Especially in Derek's body.

“But, it's not my--”

“I won't tell him, I'm guessing _you_ won't tell him, so. Shirt off. And pants too while you're at it.” she crossed her arms, and at that moment Stiles knew there was no way he was getting out of this. He rolled his eyes, taking off the black henley and opening his arms wide. She made a continue motion and Stiles begrudgingly stood up. He slid out of the jeans and stepped back so Lydia could see the full form of Derek Hale.

“Turn.” she informed him, Stiles rolling his eyes and turning so she could see the back. “Bend over.” he heard her say, shooting a look over his shoulder. She rose a brow and he let out a whine. Slowly he bent over, hands pressed on his calves and legs spread slightly. It was pretty unnerving and slightly arousing, but he wouldn't tell Lydia this.

“Stand up, turn around.” Stiles obeyed like a puppet on a string, turning around and crossing his arms over his chest. She smiled, coaxing a finger. “Good enough.” he walked back to the chair and settled down, somehow doubting Lydia would let him put his clothing back on.

“Thanks Lydia.” he said, grumbling low as he ran a hand through Derek's hair and huffing.

“You're the one who woke me up from my nap. Obviously it was something important. So, Carpe Diem.” Stiles shot her a look and the girl leaned back with a smug smile. “Talk, I know you want to.”

And Stiles did. He told Lydia about everything he could think of, how he was feeling how Derek had been _nice_ to him for a while, even told her about his fears for Giamatti and Mercello coming into town and wrecking havoc. She listened, patiently waiting for Stiles to finish when he was blue in the face.

She was quiet for a little, looking off to the side of desk and not making contact with Stiles' eyes. He knew she was thinking hard, her eyes flicking from side to side as she finally opened her mouth.

“You're an idiot.” Stiles groaned, slamming his head on the desk and letting out a huff.

“Really? That's all you have to say about this?”

“You're not telling me everything, so I'm sticking with the idiot assumption.” Stiles looked up, mouth open in shock as he waved his arms.

“I told you _everything_ Lydia! There really isn't anything else to say! Oh my god, I even told you that I have a crush on Derek.”

She rose a brow, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. “Please, you've been pining for that dick since forever. Why else would you have _helped_ him these past years? All he does is cause you physical pain and call you names.” she kinda had a point, but the again she was Lydia Martin.

“Well... I don't know what else to tell you.” he huffed, looking over her as she pulled her hair back and braided it quickly to keep it out of her face.

“Tell me why you like him.” she said softly, “Because you used to have flawless taste in crushes.” she flicked a smile at him that nearly made him blush. Nearly.

“Uh, see that's a little difficult. It's not that I _like_ him... I just.. I want to make sure he's ok, I want to be able to call him in the middle of the night and ask if he's thinking about something or... I want to see him play the piano. I really, really want to see him do that. Just... I want to make him smile and forget the past. Because, even though he's all 'moved on' he really hasn't. He's--”

“So you want to fix him?” Lydia threw in, curling up in her chair as she watched Stiles with careful eyes. Stiles shook Derek's head, licking his lips and looking down.

“You can't fix what isn't broken, Lydia. He's not _broken_. All the pieces are still there, he just... won't let them come together. He needs someone to push at him, to... to remind him that...” he sighed, running a hand through his hair again.

“There is a thin line between living... and being alive.” Lydia looked up at that, smiling fondly and sighing.

“Dear god, you've got it bad.” Stiles sighed, looking up at her and nodding.

“Yeah, I kinda do. It doesn't help that I'm kinda looking at his body twenty-four/seven.” she snorted and rolled her eyes.

“Use that to your advantage. You are in Derek Hale's body. He's in yours. Why not do something you _know_ will work on you. You know what you like, Derek knows what _he_ likes.” Lydia shot him a sly grin.

“What are you telling me, Lydia?” he asked dryly, giving her a look as she shrugged coyly.

"I'm telling you, I'm done with this conversation. _You_ know what you can do. _You_ know what you're going to do. You just wanted someone to tell you.” she said, smiling soft as she yawned. “Now, you need to let me sleep, we've been talking for three hours.”

He glanced at the clock and sure enough, three hours passed. He smiled to himself, turning back to her. She flicked her finger, motioning for Stiles to stand up again. He rolled his eyes and stood up, opening his arms and showing off Derek's body once more.

“Turn around, to the side.” he showed the profile, feeling awkward as she gazed over his body. “Mh. We're good. Good night, Stiles.”

“Night Lydia.”

It was Friday night when Derek and Stiles were alone once more, Stiles finishing up the dishes as Derek read through something on the computer.

“What is Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann?” he asked finally, looking up to Stiles who's mouth was open with shock.

“Uh, dude. One of the most amazing Anime of all time. Like, seriously. Did you live under a rock?” he asked, turning back to the dishes.

“No, but I was raised by wolves.” and Stiles dropped the dish he was washing to turn around.

“Derek. Did you just... just make a joke?” Derek looked up, his mouth just as slack as Stiles'. They looked at each other for a moment, Derek sweeping a tongue over his bottom lip and nodding.

“I think I did.” Stiles broke out in a fit of laughter, which sounded _completely_ strange in Derek's voice, but still.

“Oh my god. I'm going to have to remember this moment for the rest of my life. It will be all over the paper tomorrow. _Derek Hale, Beacon Hills own Brooding Pants, Cracks Joke._ Everyone will eat this up. It'll be like Christmas came early.” he turned back to the sink, finishing and placing it in the drying rack. He drained the water, rinsing down the soap suds and hopped up on the counter.

“We could watch that, if you wanted. I wouldn't mind watching the great Kamina again.” Derek looked up, raising a brow and tilting his head.

“Who?” Stiles let his mouth drop as he slid off the counter and struck a pose.

“Who the hell do you think I am?!When you hear of the great Kamina they're talking about me! You'd best remember that. GURREN LAGANN!” he shouted, pointing down to Derek and letting out a grin. “Don't believe in yourself. Believe in me! Believe in the Kamina who believes in you!”

“Don't do that. Ever again.” Derek grumbled, though there was hints of a smile on his face as Stiles winked.

“But it's fun! Here. Let's watch it and you'll see what I'm talking about, ok?” Derek, though looking a little reluctant, nodded his head slowly and they wandered into the living room for Stiles to hook his laptop up to the tv.

They settled into the usual, feet barely touching under the cheep blanket and eyes glued to the screen, but Stiles couldn't help but look over to see if Derek was enjoying it. He seemed to be entranced by it, much the same way he was while watching Madoka. It was something Stiles thought he would never see from the wolf.

And something he didn't want to stop.

They managed to squeeze out about half of the show before Stiles was yawning and ready to call it a night. He stood up, stretching himself out and rolling his shoulders back before turning to the stairs.

“Night Derek.” he began to walk up the stairs when Derek's voice was quiet.

“Can you jerk me off?” Stiles paused, swallowing hard and thanking _god_ that Derek had normal human hearing right now. He turned around and tried to look completely nonchalant.

“What?” he asked, though Derek looked like he was about to burst a vein with how red his face was.It was actually pretty weird, watching yourself get flustered.

“Your body... it's... so... _needy_. And I-- I don't want to touch it after--” Stiles closed his eyes, Derek was still looking down in his lap as he said the last bit. Stiles could almost _smell_ the shame creeping over the man. It was sickening actually, to smell something that _potent_ off Stiles' own skin.

“I'm totally cool with you jerking me off, like... seriously. Like you said, Sex and Masturbation, not the same thing.” Derek looked up, biting his lip and growling softly.

“Stiles...”

“No, seriously. Just. Go to town. Give my... _needy_ body what it wants.” Stiles' mouth was dry, Derek's body feeling the pangs of want, but that was probably due to Stiles. He really liked Derek, it was bad.

“That's.... it's...” he closed his eyes. “It feels weird. It's not...” Derek was having a hard time with his big boy words, Stiles found, standing up and walking towards Stiles. Stiles took a step back, nearly tripping on the stairs.

“Uh, hey. I get it. It's weird. Trust me, I've been feeling the same way.” he tried to crawl away, because really? Being stalked by your own body is a little weird.

“Have you touched it?” Derek asked softly, finally making his way between the man's legs and putting a hand on his thigh. And _woah_ is that what Stiles' fingers _feel_ like? Because he was seriously considering going into hand porn then. His body seemed electro-charged and gagging for those fingers to roll over his bare skin and--

NO! Stiles is _NOT_ having a fantasy about his own body! That's weird and a little bit too much like Jackson for his taste. He tried to squirm out from under Derek's hands before nodding.

“Your cock? Uh yeah, kinda have to in order to mas--”

“My _knot_ : Did you touch my _knot_?” Derek asked softly, sliding his hands up Stiles' borrowed thighs, and ohgod. Yes. Stiles was having a fantasy about his own fingers digging into flesh and pulling him close as he--

“Yes.” he squeaked out, Derek's smile turning predatory as he slid Stiles' hands higher still. Stiles was breathing hard now, the wolf in the back of his mind screaming at him to just _take_. He tried to shake it off, looking up. “Derek this isn't fair. I can't control the wolf.”

“What if I don't want you to?” Derek growled, looking up with blown pupils and a glint behind Stiles' eyes. “What if I want you to take, to hurt me, to _use_ me, like--”

“Like you did to me.” Stiles finished, seeing what this was all about now. “Derek. I told you I was _fine_. I--”

“But what if I'm not?” he stood up, fists clenched until the knuckles were white. “I _hurt_ you. So badly. I was a _terrible_ friend, a _horrible_ Alpha--”

“But you're not my Alpha.” Stiles corrected, the man turning his eyes to look at Stiles. “Not technically. I mean, you've kinda made it obvious you don't _want_ to be--”

“How can you _say_ that?” Derek was on him again, this time so close Stiles could smell the pizza sauce from dinner. He swallowed hard. “How can you be in my body... and not...” he growled, getting up and shaking his head. “Never mind.”

Something in Stiles snapped, forcing him to stand up and grabbing his body by his shoulders. He slammed him into the wall, snarling at his face and gripping his shirt in his fist.

“Don't _do_ that! You can't just DO that! Stop in the middle of your sentences and just _expect_ me to know what you're thinking. I _don't_ ok? I'm not a mind reader, I'm a human fucking being, so if you would _please_ grow a pair and _talk_ to me like a _normal_ person--” he was cut off as Derek let out a broken moan, making Stiles look down. Their hips were pressed close, Stiles' body grinding against Derek's.

Oh god.

“De—Derek... Wha--”

“Shut up” he growled, closing his eyes and moving his hands to wrap around Stiles' neck. “Just... please. Shut up and let me do this.” his voice was shaky, fingers digging into the shirt as he continued to rock. Stiles was speechless, the words hitting his cock like a thousand ounces of pressure. Was Stiles really going to let Derek do this to him? It was obvious that Derek didn't feel any sort of attraction to Stiles, didn't even _like_ men. So this would only hurt Stiles in the long run. Was Stiles _really_ going to let Derek use him again?

Yes. Yes, a thousand times yes.

They were both panting hard, rocking in a spastic rhythm that was more need than technique. Stiles didn't really care, he was _frotting_ with _Derek._ And while he would more than likely hate himself for doing this in the morning, right now he felt so fucking _good._

“Derek!” he groaned, though it sounded foreign in Derek's voice, calling out his own name. He wanted Derek to call out _his_ name. A thought suddenly struck him, his body quivering at the thought as he continued to rock against Derek. He closed his eyes – knowing this was probably the _weirdest_ thing he could possibly do – and leaned in close to his own ear.

_“Stiles_. _”_ Derek let out a broken whimper as he came, Stiles growling as he too came. The two panted, coming down from their high as they both realized what had happened. Stiles dropped Derek, taking a step back as he looked over the man. They were quiet, Derek finally breaking the silence.

“Thank you.” and he turned to walk down the hall to the bathroom to wash up. Stiles quickly ran upstairs, shame and mortification covering his face. He had gotten off on Derek's voice saying his name. Derek would know, he _had_ to know. He rushed into the shower, turning the hot water on completely and jumping in.

He hissed at the hot water, closing his eyes and stroking himself ruthlessly. He hated himself, hated what he was doing, but as he stroked, only one word was present on his tongue.

_“Stiles.”_


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This contains graphic violence. Sorry.

They didn't talk about that night, the next morning Derek asked if they could finished Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann and they sat on the couch watching until they finished all twenty seven episode. Stiles didn't even ask what they should watch next, he simply started Steins;Gate, settling back into the couch and daring Derek to argue.

Derek didn't complain.

When they finished half the season, the Sheriff called Stiles' phone, asking to have a family dinner. Derek stood up silently, gathering the things he needed and went to walk out the door when Stiles couldn't take it.

“Are we--” he paused, looking over him. “Are we going to talk about it?” Derek paused, opening the door.

“No.” and he walked out. Stiles waited until he heard the jeep engine roar away before letting out a yell of frustration. He wanted to hit something, wanted to destroy something. Derek was a dick. A stupid, stupid, fucking dick.

Whom Stiles was in love with. Yes yes, he knew he was falling fast, but to be honest, there was no in between. Stiles was either going to fight to the death for someone or he was going to leave them to die.

Derek was worth saving.

He was about to start in on just binge eating everything in sight, when Derek's phone rang. Stiles grumbled, picking it up and flicking it open. To his surprise it was Peter.

“Where's Derek?” he asked, not even saying a greeting to Stiles. The boy snorted, running a hand through his hair.

“I'm not his keeper.” there was silence for a moment, Peter letting out a slow breath, probably counting to ten before trying to talk again. “He's at my house with my dad. Why?”

Peter was shuffling through something, the sound of heavy paper and rustling made Stiles pause. That was a case file. Peter was looking through a case file.

“What is it?” Stiles asked, shifting a little. If this was a distraction from the asshole named Derek, he'd be willing to do anything. “What did you find?”

“Alphonse Wiseau, the cell mate of Marcurio Giamatti, is still in San Quentin.” Peter said slowly, Stiles felt his heart rate rise. San Quentin prison was only a half hour drive away, he could go there, ask questions and be back before anyone knew he was gone. It was nearly a perfect plan.

“Why are you telling me this?” he asked suspiciously, nothing ever came free with Peter. The wolf sighed deeply over the phone, the sound of the file being gripped tighter echoed over the phone.

“Honestly. Team Human is a disappointment. Wiseau. Really? You don't see how that is a huge deal?” when Stiles was silent, Peter let out a gruff and continued. “Argents, Wiseaus, and Faulkners. All have _what_ in common, Stiles.” the boy blinked, licking his lips and then widening his eyes.

“Alphonse Wiseau is a hunter.”

“Bingo. So, I don't know what he is doing in jail or why he was with Giamatti. But the reports I managed to scrounge up all say the same thing. The two of them were always together.” Stiles licked his lips, looking over towards the door where Derek had just walked out.

“I need to talk to him” he finally said, Peter making a hum of agreement. “When can I visit San Quentin?” Peter let out a small chuckle, Stiles wondering if the man only told him this information to taunt him. But Peter must be just as curious.

“July 31st in two weeks.”

Stiles needed to plan.

Stiles and Derek had been avoiding each other as much as possible. They had taken to silently passing each other and never being alone in a room together. Sure, this left a bitter taste in Stiles' mouth and many nights of masturbation, but it was better than facing their feelings, right? They had been in each others bodies for two months now and the blue moon was soon approaching. They had to get it right or else they would be stuck like this until the _next_ blue moon.

When the thirty-first rolled around, he had grabbed Derek's ID and keys before hopping in the Camaro. Out of all of Stiles' brilliant-but-not-so-brilliant plans, this one probably took the cake. When he had driven halfway to San Quentin he started thinking this might not be the best plan. When he was actually at the prison, filling out the visitor forms and getting an ID badge, he guessed it was a terrible idea. But when he was being led into the nearly empty room to sit in an uncomfortable stool connected to a metal table, he was _positive_ this was the worst idea in the history of all time.

Alphonse Wiseau was a tall man. Deep set blue eyes and a crooked nose that looked like it had been broken a few times. There were thick scratches down his neck and face, his black shaggy hair covering most of his face as he was set down and strapped to the table. His hands were hardly able to reach across the table, the chain preventing him from standing at all either.

“So, the wolf comes in forms of many. Seeking knowledge that is not his to know. Tell me, _Derek Hale_ of _Beacon Hills_ , why do you need to know about Marcurio Giamatti?” Stiles didn't want to know how the man knew him, didn't want to know anything about him, and yet--

“How do you know who I am?” he asked, licking his lip and nearly forgetting everything he was supposed to be asking. The hunter smiled briefly, looking over him.

“I have eyes. I can read the paper. Animal attacks similar to that of the ones in LA back in 1993? Mercello couldn't have been the only one. And the Argents? Aren't exactly the most _low profile_ of hunters.” Wiseau smiled, leaning back in the chair. “My question remains, why Marcurio Giamatti?”

Stiles didn't think this could happen. He couldn't gain control of the situation if he played into the man's hand, so he followed up with one of his own.

“Why is a hunter in jail?” there was a pause when Stiles was sure Wiseau was thinking about lying, but then his body relaxed and he looked him over.

“I had bad business in the nineties. Nearly got killed by the wolves I was hunting in San Diego. Managed to kill their Alpha, but he was high up in politics and there was no way for me to get off. So, here for life, protecting the city that condemned me. How's that for thanks?” he shrugged, making the chains clink against the table legs. Stiles looked him over, biting his lip and trying to think of what he could say.

“Is that why you kept close tabs on Giamatti?” Wiseau looked board with the prospect, almost yawning slightly.

“No, Giamatti was just my cell mate. It was completely luck of the draw that I got the rapist in my cell. In fact, it was with my help he got to stay in jail as long as he did. Who do you think told the guards about all the shady business going down? You're welcome by the way.” Stiles paused slightly, looking over him and frowning deeply.

“Then why were you always overheard talking to Giamatti? Wasn't he a wolf supporter?” he tried to keep his voice calm, though Wiseau looked over him with confusion.

“You mean Mercello? Come on, Giamatti was too smart to have a beast like that untamed. He _used_ the wolf, didn't actually care about the race of the mongrels. No offense. I'm sure you're a very decent member of... whatever. But, no. I talked with him for a different reason. We both had... similar activities outside the doors. Giamatti was a hunter too. Though a different _type_ of hunter.”

“I thought--”

“Forget what you thought, Derek m'boy. We are all just puppets in the show of Giamatti. Why do you think he was arrested so easily? He _wanted_ to be in the prison. He _wanted_ to be in _this_ specific cell-block, for _that_ specific crime. Why else would he have left that Stilinski woman live? He's been planning this for seventeen years and all of us are just--” Stiles had bristled at the mention of his mother,causing Wiseau to pause and then let out a choked gasp. “You aren't a wolf.” Stiles frowned, nodding his head.

“Yes, I am. I am an al--”

“You aren't Derek Hale.” there was a moment of silence before the pieces clicked. “Stilinski.” Wiseau looked scared, his eyes flicking side to side. “Get out. GET OUT! GET OUT YOU STUPID BOY!” He tried to stand, the chains preventing him from getting far. “YOU! IT'S YOU! HE WANTS YOU!” the guards grabbed him, trying to contain him as he flung wildly for Stiles.

 _“Alli permutat anima kimota. Alli perm--”_ Stiles fell back as the guards knocked Wiseau over the head, cutting off the spell before it could be completed. He took shallow breaths, looking over as one of the guards offered their hand. He took it, swallowing as he looked over the crumpled form of Wiseau.

“Sorry about that, Mr. Hale. Visiting hours are now over.” Stiles nodded, turning to walk out the room with shaky feet. He signed out, licking his lips and climbing into the Camaro. But he didn't start the car. He didn't turn the key his hand had shakily put in the ignition, didn't even shut the door. He just let out a broken sob.

It started in his neck, like always. The feeling of tension in his shoulders tying knots in his muscles like someone has a hold on his body and was slowly squeezing the life from him. He felt like his insides were going to come out, that he was going to turn inside out. His brain felt like it wanted to pop out of his skull as tremors shot up his arms and his legs lost their functions. He started to hyperventilate, his body shaking as he clutched at himself.

“No no no no no!” he whimpered, closing his eyes and gripping himself so hard he swore he broke skin. Claws were out, scratching at his bare arms and the smell of blood filled the air as he rocked in the seat. This wasn't happening. He was _not_ having a panic attack in the parking lot of San Quentin. He was _not_ having a panic attack in Derek Hale's body. He swallowed, trying to gather himself.

He couldn't breathe, couldn't feel the small connection in the back of his brain telling him it would be alright. Because it _wouldn't_ be alright. Stiles was in deep. Deeper than he had ever been, and he was _alone_.

Then he felt it.

Human contact as his hands were pulled away from his arms, the warm sensation of a body crawling on top and pulling his head to the beating heart. Fingers curled through his hair and massaged the nape of his neck. Stiles wrapped his arms around the figure, not caring who it was at the moment and sobbed. He gripped the body tightly as he tried to take deep breaths.

“I told you not to do anything stupid.” Derek said softly, their bodies pressed close together as Stiles continued to shake and sob. “Why are you having an attack?” he asked. Talking. He was trying to get Stiles talking. He was grateful the wolf was here, the tight embrace comforting him more.

“Can't-- can't do it. Not strong enough. I-- don't-- I'm not--” Derek hushed him, pulling his head up so their eyes could meet.

“Believe in yourself. Not in the you who believes in me. Not the me who believes in you. Believe in the you who believes in yourself. Don't be held back by someone else's bullshit.” Stiles looked over him, his eyes widening as he looked over Derek.

“You just quoted Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann.” he said with a cracking voice, Derek smiling as he nodded.

“Seemed appropriate in this situation.” Stiles swallowed, realizing now that Derek had straddled him to fit into the seat of the Camaro with him. He felt the slow creep of a blush form on his face as the tips of his ears grew hot.

“I--” this was the most they had talked in a month, Stiles not wanting to ruin it, so he nuzzled his head back into the chest and let Derek run his own fingers through his hair. This was enough, he didn't need to be loved back by Derek, he just needed them to be friends, needed them to talk. He just needed Derek in anyway he could.

He hated himself.

Derek and Stiles sat in the Camaro for a while as the sun dipped into the bay over the waterfront, not moving from the spot until Derek was sure Stiles' panic attack had subsided.

“How... how did you know--” Stiles asked, though the voice was dry and broke several times as he tried to ask.

“Peter.” he said, sliding off his lap and into the passenger side seat. “He told me about the theory and that you were going to see Wiseau.” he looked down. “I would have been here sooner, but Scott wouldn't let me ditch practice and I had to catch a bus.” Derek growled now, looking over Stiles with condescending eyes.

They drove for a little, the silence grating as they turned down a street towards the highway. Finally, Derek spoke.

“Why would you _do_ something so stupid? Why couldn't you have just staid put like I _told_ you.” Stiles was quiet, still not sure of his voice as the lights of the street stretched over the black car. “He could have _killed_ you. Giamatti could have been waiting for you.”

“Good thing I don't look like me then.” Stiles responded, turning to Derek and growling. “I can protect myself, Derek. I don't need you always looking over my shoulder. You don't really care about me, you've pretty much proven it. So why don't you just let me fucking make my own choices.”

There was a brief flicker of something, Derek's jaw going tight.

“Pull over.” he growled, Stiles flicking the car into the parking lot of a motel. Derek snatched his wallet from the dash, walking into the office. Stiles didn't know what to do, so he waited. Derek walked back out, tugging the door open and then tugging Stiles out towards a door. He unlocked it and shoved the boy through.

“What the _fuck_ Derek. What the actual living Fuck! You can't just go around and treat people like--” he was cut off when the man grabbed him by the throat and slammed him into the wall, kicking the door shut.

“Every breath I take is smoke pouring from my throat. The air around me is filled with ash and I can barely keep myself alive each day. Every step feels like my soul is being ripped from my body, it takes all my will power to not scream in agony. When I sleep, I dream of fire. Burning me to my very core, causing me so much pain I can barely stand it. I weep, every night I cry out for the nightmares to end, for my suffering to be complete. But it won't ever be. Because of YOU.”

Stiles swallowed, looking over the wolf as he snarled these words. Stiles was thrown onto the bed, Derek pouncing on him and grabbing his throat.

“My heart clenches every time I see you, hear you, feel your presence in the same _room._ I can feel my heart fall, feel it in my stomach, feel it being burned by your _glance._  You can just  _look_  at me and I feel like I'm dying, like I'm on _fire_. I  _HATE_ you so much! Why do you make me feel the way I do about myself? I _HATE_  myself around you, I _HATE_ the way you make me _forget._ Make me _laugh_. I DON'T FUCKING DESERVE IT!”

His hand was back, slamming into his own face, breaking the nose with his fist. Adrenaline aiding to his strength as he continued to beat into the face. Stiles could see through bruised eyes tears and frustration covering Derek's borrowed face.

“I can _feel_ you. Under my skin, crawling and bubbling beneath the surface like liquid fire. You wormed your way through everything and shattered into a thousand burning coals that set my veins and crack my skin. But I crawl back to feel your heat because it's the only thing that reminds me I'm _ALIVE._ That I'm _STILL FUCKING BREATHING._ You makes my head spin and the rest of my body feel so still, you burn and consume without even fucking _knowing_. I'm falling into the darkness of your fucking eyes, but I don't care. I want you to stop this fire, stop these _feelings_. But I know, there would be _nothing_ left of me if you did.”

He pounded his fists into the soft flesh of Stiles' face, echoes of cracking bone and thuds of flesh-on-flesh resounding through Stiles' whimpers. It didn't matter, though. The pain was superficial, the wounds would heal. Stiles wasn't afraid anymore. Derek had told him how he felt and even though it wasn't exactly what Stiles wanted to hear,  it was the truth.

And Derek deserved it too.

“Derek, I love you.” Stiles whispered, tears falling around his bruised eyes. Derek felt anger surge once again and ripped off Stiles' shirt, pounding him repeatedly in the stomach.

“I love you!” Stiles cried, his moans of pain cut short by a fit of coughing. Tears blurred Stiles' vision as Derek beat him harder, his knuckles dripping blood as he pulled them away to

“I LOVE YOU!” Stiles shouted as Derek sent a final punch to his chest. Stiles could feel the blood flowing from his broken nose and lips, his right eye was blinded by swelling flesh. But he could already feel his body knitting the tissue back together, the dull ache of the pain

“I love you.” he said once again, his chest aching and sobs racking his body. Derek collapsed on the broken body of Stiles, his eyes stung from the suppressed tears.

And their lips crashed, Derek pressing their faces together in tight need and tongued seeking the soft heat of the other's mouth. Stiles' hands shot up, tugging the hair tightly between fingers, rolling on the bed as they panted and kissed. Clothing flew off, shirts and pants forgotten in heaps on either side of the bed. Stiles didn't even care it was his own body he was pleasuring. Lydia was right, he knew what he liked and he was going to use it.

Stiles leaned over and slowly licked down Derek's shivering neck, tracing the raised flesh of his collar bone. The wolf was in control now, taking whatever it wanted and begging for more. Derek let out a soft moan as Stiles' tongue continued to explore his chest, sucking at his nipples until they stood erect and pink against his pale flesh.

“Stiles...” Derek's pleas were caught in his throat as Stiles licked his hip bones, hot breath caressing his quivering length. Stiles stopped and lifted his head, pulling away from Derek's begging cock. He growled, pulling Derek up by his hair and throwing him to the other side of the bed.

He scrambled up onto his knees, positioning himself with his legs apart to reveal his vulnerable backside. The wolf let out a howl of lust, heat pooling in the tip of Stiles' cock as he scrambled on top of Derek, pressing softly against his bare ass and his cold fingers wrapping around his wrists.

“Derek... I”

“Fuck me, Stiles.” he growled, rubbing his ass against the dripping cock. “Hard.” it didn't take anything more for Stiles to slid his dry cock into his own ass. All of a sudden, nothing mattered to Stiles but the slow and painful rhythm with Derek. It didn't matter that he was fucking his own body for his first time, didn't matter that Derek hated him, didn't matter that this was probably the last time they would be like this. Stiles just wanted this, the tight heat and the pain.

He just wanted Derek.

All of him.

Stiles pushed deeper, holding the bucking hips against him and pushing with all his might. A growl of lust erupted from his throat as he yanked Derek's head back, ripping some hair out.

“Derek-- Fuck I...” Stiles started, watching Derek as his eyes rolling into the back of his skull. Saliva dripped down his chin as he forced himself harder against Stiles, moans and gasps escaping his throat.

“Sh..shut...The..fuck up, Stiles!” His voice broke as Stiles thrust faster, pressing closer to Derek's warm body, trying to relieve the fire that was burning through them. Derek squirmed against the thick cock, the knot pushing and aching to be thrust into the tight body. Stiles grunted, the knot finally sliding through the tight ring of muscles and swelling.

Stiles felt Derek's release surge around his knot, the come dripping down from his now limp member. Stiles pushed faster, his head snapping back as he felt the slow crawl of his release burst around the tight ass of his own body. He collapsed on Derek's back, body shaking as the wolf slowly slunk back into Stiles' subconscious. They lay panting, Stiles' eyes closing from the pressure of the knot.

“Derek--” but the world went black before he could even say anything more.

When Stiles woke up, every mark and cut Derek had given him the night before was gone.

And so was Derek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: I'm going to Alaska to research a location for my new book and won't have internet or my notes for this fic until the 7th of august.
> 
> so sorry it will be a little for the update!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this took so long! I was stuck in Alaska a little longer than I had planned and I had no internet for WEEKS! So, here I have a chapter for you all, thank you for being so patient!

Stiles got up and puttered around the room, grabbing the rumpled clothing that smelled like Derek and Stiles' scent mingled together. It was almost too much. But, because he was a masochist, he slid the shirt on and inhaled it deeply. He could close his eyes and imagine them, lips crashing together in heat of need. He wanted to hold that memory forever.

He had managed to clean up the room as much as he could, grabbing Derek's jacket and sliding it on. Though, when he did, as small piece of paper floated out and fluttered to the floor. Stiles snatched it, reading over it four or five times before the knot in his stomach loosened.

**Isaac called, trouble at home.**

**Talk later.**

**-D**

Stiles took a deep, cleansing breath and then flopped back onto the motel bed. He closed his eyes as he felt tears of relief slide down his cheek. Derek wasn't running. Derek didn't _leave_ because of what happened. Sure he left, but this was a pretty good reason. Stiles looked at the clock and saw it was almost noon. He should probably be getting back to Beacon Hills.

He hopped into the Camaro, which thankfully Derek left him, and slowly pulled out of the motel and towards the highway. He was feeling better about himself. True Derek had basically beaten the _shit_ out of him and then begged for his own cock--

Stiles was just going to stop thinking about things.

He turned himself onto the road and felt his stomach growl loudly, realizing he hadn't had anything to eat in... a while. So, turning into a greasy spoon off the side of the highway, he parked the car and walked into the diner style restaurant. He ordered coffee and the largest burger he could find and then just settled in to read the paper. And use his werewolf hearing to eavesdrop. He was going to hell.

There were the usual conversations from teenagers who had been so 'wasted' last night they couldn't remember anything, a couple old ladies gossiping about who Robert was seeing now, and of course, two men talking in hushed tones about the full moon.

Stiles swallowed, training his ears on their conversation and looking up at the small mirror to see them.

_“The blue moon is in two weeks and we still ain't found 'im. He's one person, how hard can it be?”_ the lighter brown male spoke first, large dreadlocks tied back into a small twist and what looked like a claw tucked neatly into it. _“And where the fuck is M?”_

_“Patience_ _, Chen mawon. You are always quick to bite the head, all things come in time.”_ the other one, the darker of the two, spoke with a very heavy accent that made Stiles wonder where he was from. He shivered slightly as his food was placed in front of him. He ate slowly, trying to continue listening.

_“Fuckin' hate yah mumbo jumbo language Rene. We're in America. Speak American.”_ the dreadlocks said, snorting as he finished off his coffee and leaned in close.

_“I do not wish to forget my past, much as you try to forget yours Mercello.”_ Stiles felt his blood run cold as 'Rene' spoke, his eyes looking over dreadlocks again. He swallowed, if he had a shaved head, no goatee and...

Tommy Mercello was in the diner with him.

_“I don't wanna forget it, I just wanna move on. And I can't do that until we get the Stilinski brat.”_ oh god, and he was talking about him.

_“Do you even know where he is? It seems Giamatti was not forthcoming with--_

_“Shaddup, yah Haitian Voodoo freak. I'm only workin' with yah cause of 'im, so fuck off”_ Stiles didn't really want to get in the middle of the conversation with those two, but he needed to know how close they were to finding out where Derek and his body were.

_“Giamatti is my reason for dealing with his pet.”_ Mercello growled at that, licking his lips as he ran a hand down his face.

_“I ain't no ones pet, Majik Man. And yah best remember that. I can make it look like an animal killed yah, did it before and I'll do it again.”_ Stiles ate his burger slowly, trying to listen as Mercello's voice dropped into a nearly inaudible murmur. _“We should just grab 'im, yah know?”_ there was hesitation in his voice, Stiles chewing the burger in thought as he did.

_“Giamatti has been waiting seventeen years, we can wait another ten minutes.”_ Rene was slow to talk, Mercello still shifting uncomfortably as he licked his lips.

_“I don't wanna punch yah, but if yah keep saying shit like that I'ma have ta.”_

_“It should have worked through his system by now, give it a moment.”_ Rene said, and when Stiles looked up into the mirror again, the two faces were turned.

On him.

He swallowed, looking around the diner once more and realizing _no one_ was there. The waitress and staff were gone, all the other customers had left, leaving Stiles, Rene, and Mercello.

_Fuck_.

He stood up, pushing away from the counter as he felt the blood rushing to his head. He swooned, tipping back and trying to catch himself as black encroached on his vision. He felt weak as he tipped back to the ground, body connecting with the tiles as he tried to squirm away. The Haitian, Rene, looked over him as he slid a hand over Stiles' eyes.

“Sleep, chen mawon Hale, soon you will feel nothing...”

And the world was dark.

Stiles woke up with a splitting headache and his arms chained above him. He shook in them for a moment, trying to see if he could break free. There was a tweak and he winced in pain as electricity surged through his body. He wanted to let out a scream, but there was a gag over his mouth. He looked around the room, eyes adjusting to the low light.

It was a warehouse that had been made into a sort of loft. There was a couch, ripped to shreds and looking like it had been taken out of the dump. Two small cots were pushed on either side of the wall. One looked clean and orderly, the other a mess of sheets and pillows.

_Three guesses which is Mercello's..._ Stiles thought, his eyes continued to roam around. There was a table with two chairs that were mismatched, a fridge and a stove where a pot was bubbling. He could see Rene standing over the pot, humming to himself as he slowly stirred in something. Stiles didn't like the smell, recognizing it as Aconite. He growled, shaking in the chains as Rene looked over him and smiled.

“Good morning, chen mawon.” he smiled, grabbing a spoon and scooping up some of the pot's mixture into a glass and bringing it over to Stiles. He slipped the gag off and pressed the glass to his lips.

“Drink, drink. You have nothing to fear. You are worth more alive.” Stiles drank the concoction down, licking his lips as he swallowed slowly. Then the world slowly faded again.

He woke up again some time later, he couldn't tell how long it had been. There was an IV attached to him, slowly dripping as he looked around. Rene was sitting at the table, flipping pages of a book slowly.

“W-w--” he was cut off as the warehouse door opened and Mercello walked in with a grin on his face.

“Derek Hale, Alpha of Beacon Fucking' Hills. The one town we can't find shit.” Stiles blinked at the man's words, looking over him. Rene nodded, retuning to the pot still boiling on the stove and filling another glass. “So, tell me. What the hell kinda majick man have you gots protecting your lil' shit hole?” Stiles frowned at that.

“What the hell are you _talking_ about? Magic man?” there was a small sound of static and the electricity rolled through him making him wince in pain. Rene tutted.

“You should tell him what he wants to know, mesye Hale. The last wolf he had tortured for information did not come back.”

Fuck.

“I don't know! No one tells me anything!” Stiles said honestly, but the electricity ran through him again and made him whine in pain.

“Alpas. Know. Everythin'.” Mercello said, grinning a little wider. “Its the best part about it.” He leaned forward, running a knife down his chest lightly. “Hmmm I always wondered. If I cut off a part of a wolf's body... Will it grow back? Nothing yah'd miss... maybe yah cock.” Stiles thought Derek would _probably_ miss that and decided to just talk.

“We have a witch! Lydia! But... She's not with us anymore!” it was a lie, a pretty good one though. Lydia was a 'witch'... Mercello raised a brow and looked over to Rene. The man shrugged, pressing the glass to Stiles' lips and forcing him to drink another glass of the foul stuff. He groaned as he swallowed it, head feeling lighters and eyes wavering. The world was blacking out around the edges and he swallowed hard as he fell asleep once more.

“I have not heard of a witch called Lydia. And I know of all the American registered ones. If he were telling the truth, she would be powerful enough to hide herself. That would explain why we cannot find the town.”

Wait. What? Stiles blinked awake a while later, looking over the two of them as his eyes focused. So they couldn't _find_ Beacon Hills? Was that even possible? It was kinda on maps and road atlases and everything else. Kind of impossible not to find. Rene must have picked up on the confusion and smiled.

“We cannot find the town because of your little witch. Only you know the way, you can lead us. I swear I will not hurt your pack, nor will we hurt any of the people. We only need the one. Stilinski.” Rene said sweetly, Stiles felt his heart pounding.

“He's worried.” Mercello said, listening to the beating heart. “He must know 'im.” Rene rose a brow and frowned.

“He isn't a wolf, is he? If he is this is all for nothing... And we'll have no use for you.” Stiles swallowed, taking a deep breath.

“He's in my pack” he said softly, the words from Derek's mouth making Stiles cringe at how badly he wanted that to be true. Mercello scoffed.

“Don't mean _I_ can't use 'im. Been a while since I've had a lil' fun with a wolf pack. Maybe we should go huntin'.” his grin was wide, almost predatory as he twisted the knife down to cut Derek's shirt to reveal pale flesh. “Maybe I'll start with yah. Have you ever taken a knot, boy?” and Stiles flashed back to the night before, his eyes hazy.

“OH? I think our lil' friend _likes_ that. Got himself a mate back home? Hmmm? Who's yah mate.” he ripped the shirt off completely, leaving Stiles panting slightly. There was another glass to his lips, forcing him to drink it down.

“What... What are you...” he huffed, the drink being shoved down his throat. He was heavy in the chains, the electricity forgotten as he felt something well up inside him. It was deadly, sickening, lust. He tugged on the chains, trying to get away from the feeling and Mercello smiled. His eyes flickered and the darkness took him once more.

Stiles felt his eyes flicker open in the darkness. The IV was gone and Stiles was in his own body again, his eyes wide as he looked over to the figure in the room. Derek stood there in his own body, raising an eyebrow at the teenager. Stiles tried to move, but he was still chained to the wall where Mercello and Rene left him.

“De--” He started, but Derek walked forward, rolling his fingers over Stiles' naked chest.

“You always find yourself in trouble don't you? Maybe I should leave you tied up, like a present for myself...” Stiles swallowed. He shook a little, the fingers of Derek running down and tugging at the waist band of his jeans. “I could unwrap you slowly, tease you until you are ready to pop like warm champagne and beg for me to hurt you even more.”

“Oh god.” Stiles whined, shaking in the chains as the fingers brushed the bare chest slowly. An itch moving through the teen as he tried to get away. “You... we need to tal--”

“I've always want to run my fingers over your chest. To find out if you’re as soft, as smooth as you look, follow it with my tongue, tasting you.” he licked up the chest now, sliding the tongue barely under the jeans to tease the boy. Stiles whined, looking over him slowly with lust filled eyes.

“You said we--”

“Your skin tastes just how it smells, sweet and salty. Like all the candy and french fries you eat. God I just want to eat you up.” there was a moment of pause before the wolf's fingers tore off the jeans and nuzzled into Stiles' very hard cock, still clothed in boxers.

“No...please I--”

“And your cock?” he mouthed at the cock, making Stiles sputter and arch into the mouth.

“Bitter. But not enough to make me stop. And lower? Have you ever had someone rim you? Probably not, but with me, you'll have every sexual experience imaginable. And first thing? I'll tongue fuck you until you scream for me.” Derek's fingers curled into the fabric and soon Stiles was naked in the binds. The teen was panting, watching as the wolf nuzzled to the cock, barely touching its.

“Yes... Yes please! Please I--”

“Dig my claws into your soft, creamy skin, part your cheeks, and lick you from tailbone to balls. I'd claim you. I'd make you think you had died and gone to heaven.” Derek went on, his breath ghosting over the flesh and Stiles not sure he could take it.

“Touch me! Oh fuck, touch me!”

“Brush the tip of my tongue over your entrance, then I’d gently suck the puckered flesh into my mouth, and slip into your damp entrance.” The wold was rolling his fingers over the dripping cock, sending a smile up to the panting Stiles.

“PLEASE!”

“I’d push past your entrance, laving your inner walls with my tongue. Thrusting in as far as you could take me, searching for that sweet spot that would make you see stars. I know I can touch it, I've done it before. My tongue is like magic. I’d tongue fuck you against that spot until you came, screaming my name.”

Stiles was close, his body shaking in need as he bucked his hips, his cock rubbing against the stubble on Derek's chin and his heart pounding as he tried to hold himself together.

When all he wanted to do was fall apart.

“I’d brand you and no one but me would ever touch you again.” that was it, Stiles was coming in a haze of lust, his hands in tight balls as he let out a howl.

“DEREK!” he whimpered, looking down as the hallucination faded and he was faced with the realization that it hadn't been Derek. He was still in Derek's body, still being held captive by the two men. Rene smiled softly, getting up from the floor and licking his hand clean of the sticky white fluid.

“It is amazing what one can get out of someone with their mouth and a little wolfsbane.” he licked his lips and grabbed a towel.

“The fucker called his own name, Rene. He ain't got a mate.” Mercello said, crossing his arms as Stiles came down from his high.

“That's not Derek Hale. A little birdy told me.” a third voice called, a man walking into the warehouse and Stiles let out a low whimper of fear. Marcurio Giamatti walked in with a bright smile and the head of Alphonse Wiseau in his hands. He threw the head to the floor, stepping on it as the sound of bone crushing echoed through the walls.

“Daddy's home.” Stiles blacked out.

When he came to, Giamatti was standing next to him and slowly running a hand through his hair.

Stiles wanted to throw up.

“Good morning, son.” Stiles snarled and snapped his jaws, teeth bared and claws out as he tried to wiggle away from the touch.

“You aren't my dad.” he barked, trying to pull away as Giamatti moved to the chair he had pulled up next to the wall.

“Don't look at me like that. I sent you birthday gifts every year! Don't you like the computer I gave you? The car?” Stiles snarled at him as Giamatti laughed. “The bright, blue jeep that your simple Sheriff father could never afford on his salary? Hmmm, I think that was my greatest gift actually. Did your father say it was your mothers? That was my idea. Did it work?”

Stiles wanted to sob, because of course his dad did. That was why Betty had been so important to him. Now she was just a car.

“What do you want?” Stiles said finally, their eyes meeting. The dark, brown eyes he shared with the man. He wanted to gouge them out, make him eat them as Stiles watched.

“Some father son quality time.” he smiled, slapping Stiles' cheek gently. “But, if you must know. I really want to find Beacon Hills. See, Derek Hale has something of mine and I want it back.” Stiles looked the man slowly over and then let his jaw clench.

“Those witches... in the forest...” Giamatti nodded, turning to Rene.

“My clan.” Rene said, bowing low. “It was their duty to find and secure your body for our master. They failed and were slaughter by your guard dog--” Giamatti hushed the man, looking over Stiles.

“Why? Why my body?” the man gave him a patronizing look and rolled his eyes.

“Honestly? I was told you were a smart boy. I'm ashamed... I should have been a better father..” Stiles snapped at him and the man leaned in closer. “Because you are a special boy.” he grinned, making Stiles' blood freeze. “You were born to be a sacrifice, fed like a sacrificial lamb and led to the slaughter by the people you want to protect.” he let out a giggle, backing off and running a hand down the face. “You weren't born to save the world, you were born to _die_.”

Stiles was shaking in fear as the man's eyes slowly shifted from the brown to bright flames flames that seemed to be drawing Stiles into them.

“I-- I'm not a virgin.” he swallowed, trying to look away as he found it impossible to do so. The man blinked, his eyes fading back to their normal brown before he grabbed Stiles' jaw and unhinged it. Stiles screamed in pain, tears streaming down and his body trembling in fear.

“You think that is why you were chosen? No, it has nothing to do with who you've fucked or wanted to fuck. It has nothing to do with your body, because I'll be wearing your skin. No, what we need is your soul. You are an innocent, born from pain and suffering, yet you survived. Your soul is that of a warrior, a fighter. Untainted and brimming with life.”

“What are you?” Stiles whimpered, his jaw slowly healing. Giamatti gave him a raised brow and smiled slowly as he ran a hand through Derek's hair and gripped it tightly.

“Before humanity was a glimmer in the eyes of the world, after the great war between Heaven and Hell, there was a creature of light and a creature of darkness. One to lead the good and just, one to balance the world. There was magic then, nobility, and unimaginable cruelty. Now, the lines have been blurred: Good, evil, right, wrong. Man has forever traded away wonder for reason, magic for science, truth for comfort.

“You shall be my vessel and I will sanctify the streets with the steaming black blood of those who dare stand in my way. I will build this world to what it once was; a kingdom that will last for thousands and thousands of years. For I am the Phoenix, and I shall rise from the ashes of my enemies and rule this world.”

“And the cliffs notes of this rant is you are crazy!” Stiles said before he could stop himself, Giamatti looking over him with a slight smile.

“You will see. But first, you must lead us to Beacon Hills. The blue moon is tomorrow night, and I need my body.”

Stiles wasn't happy about being bound to the Camaro's steering wheel and a gun pointed to the back of his skull. He looked over to the side where Rene sat in the passenger seat and smiled sweetly at him.

“To Beacon Hills, if you would.” Stiles grumbled and motioned for the car to be shifted for him. He could drive them over the bridge, kill them all with himself included. But then Derek would be stuck in Stiles' body and while that wouldn't be a terrible thing, Isaac was Derek's second in command.

And Isaac as an Alpha was a scary thought.

“Why are you here?” Stiles asked Rene, motioning to Mercello who was holding the gun to his head. “Him too, why do you both work for Giamatti?” Rene thought for a minute, licking his lips and then cracking a smile.

“Power, chen mawon. All men seek it, all men are consumed by it. I have been by his side since the day the sun exploded and the world we know now came into being. I have seen people rendered mute by fools who spoke many words but said nothing, people for whom oppression and cowardice were virtues and freedom, an obscenity. Giamatti, for all his faults, is the man who can loosen their tongues and bring truth to a world of lies.”

Mercello scoffed, the gun pressing tighter to him.

“I just wanna kill things.” Stiles nodded, actually liking Mercello's answer better than Rene's. It was honest and seemed a little less brainwashy. “And the pay is pretty good”

“Money is a good agent of power.” Rene said simply, they two of them gazing at each other as they drove down the highway. Giamatti was following in a car behind them, since he was still on parole and couldn't be seen with Mercello.

“Yeah, yeah. Yah can suck my dick, Majick Man. But, money buys me bitches and beer.” Rene wrinkled his nose at the vulgar statement. Stiles remembered that the only link the two had was Giamatti, which wasn't something strong enough to break them when the time was right.

Meaning when a gun wasn't pointed to his head and threatening to blow his brains out. They drove in relative silence through the whole trip, Stiles actually keeping his mouth shut until they reached the outskirts of town.

“So. No offense, but how are you going to get Derek and my body to the place where the sacrifice has to take place? Because he's not stupid. He can smell a trap from a mile away.” Stiles was glad he said it sarcastically, otherwise Mercello would have smelled the lie on him a mile away.

Rene motioned for Stiles to pull the car over into a small clearing off the side. He cut the binds to Stiles and parked the car. He motioned for Stiles to get out, Mercello following after. The three of them stood together as Rene pulled Derek's leather jacket out from the trunk of the car and pulled out a cell phone. Derek's cell phone.

He typed something quickly, looking over the message and then holding the phone up so that Stiles could read the message.

_**Been shot. SOS. In woods- S** _

“Oh damn, you guys are good.” and the gun went off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking another chapter or two and an Epilogue.  
> But, I'm still debating if Derek and Stiles should actually get together.... Hmmmmm


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At first I was confused as to why there were so many negative comments on the chapter. Then I realized I put the wrong draft up. I'm sorry, have the real chapter...

  
“Stiles.” the voice was fuzzy, like it was being spoken through cellophane wrap and over a mega phone at the same time. He wanted to strangle whoever it was.

“Stiles.” the voice spoke again, making him open his eyes as he looked up into his own face. He blinked, licking his lips and frowning.

“Derek?” his voice was rough, something very painful itching the back of his throat. He tasted the metal of the bullet where it had gone through his mouth, groaning as he sat up. “Ow... I hate being shot.”

“Tell me about it.” the two of them were in the middle of the burnt Hale house, Derek running his hands through Stiles' hair in a very _unDerek_ motion. He swallowed, looking around the house and then back to Derek.

“We have to go. The blue moon is--”

“You've been gone for WEEKS!” Derek interrupted, his eyes glinting in the low light of the rising moon. He looked nervous, his body stiff as he held himself back from touching Stiles.

“Were... you worried about me?” Stiles asked, smiling despite himself. Derek looked away, biting his lip.

“The last thing that happened was me beating the shit out of you and begging you to fuck me, yeah I was a little worried.” he looked unabashed and Stile had nothing to say. His eyes widened and he looked over Derek.

“You're acting like me.” Derek blinked, frowning as he shook his head. Stiles just gave him an eyebrow raise and Derek's eyes widened.

“Oh holy hell.” he said softly. “We need to change bodies, and soon. The blue moon--”

“Is tonight.” a voice broke in between the two of them. Stiles snarled, the beta form slipping out and he stood in front of Derek to protect him.

Which, hello? Was really weird.

“Who the hell is that?” Derek asked as Giamatti, Mercello, and Rene walked into the burnt out house. Stiles swallowed, eyes never leaving Giamatti.

“I'm Stilinski's real father.” he grinned and Stiles wanted to rip his throat out. He held himself back, however, he didn't want to leave Derek unguarded. Giamatti walked forward, his steps making the wood creak and moan. Rene followed behind, muttering something as he threw black dust over the floor. Mercello just looked happy to be in his Beta form and snapping his jaws.

“You are no such thing. Derek, you need to run.” Stiles shot back. “Just RUN!” Derek hesitated for a moment, but then he started to turn and run. There was a second pause, but then Rene held his hand up and smiled.

“Sispann” the Haitian muttered, and Derek was frozen in his steps. Stiles looked over him with wide eyes and Rene grinned.

“You are not the only one who grows stronger on the full moon, chen mawon.” Stiles licked his lips and swallowed as Mercello walked forward and grabbed Derek by the hair. He dragged him over to the group and threw him on the ground. Stiles was about to rush up, run to him and throw himself over the body but Mercello grabbed him and threw him across the floor.

“Stay.” Giamatti commented, smiling wide. “Good boy.”

“Leave him alone!” Derek growled, though it was less effective from his position on the floor surrounded by Rene and Giamatti. “If all you want is me--”

“Oh look at this one! Me, me, me. Well guess what, Mr. Hale. This isn't about you. This is about the vessel you are currently occupying and the soul currently in your meat sack. So. Here is how it is going to go down. Either you agree to switch back to your own body and walk away from this, or I will kill you and Stilinski.”

Stiles squirmed trying to get up, but Mercello put a heel to his throat and slowly pressed down making it almost impossible to breath. Derek looked between the two of them, eyes searching Stiles' for something.

“Why are you--”

“Always with he questions. Well, I suppose I have all night.” Giamatti sat down and ran his hand over Derek's borrowed face and squeezed the cheeks. “It is a very attractive body. I can't wait to use it...” he removed his hand, slowly rolling up his long sleeve shirt. The skin was flaking, peeling off like the shedding skin of a reptile.

“This is why. Once a body reaches a certain age, it is no longer functioning the way it should. See, a Phoenix must be reborn every so often, and the best choice is one infused with the blessing of the phoenix. Your friend over there, being half my genes, is the best vessel I could have. But, I'm not complaining. If worse came to worse, I could find someone else. As long as they were a pure, innocent, human.” he smiled with a curl of his lips.

Derek's eyes widened as he looked over the man. Stiles could see a look cross over his face for a brief moment, but it was gone in a second. He nodded slowly, sitting up a little but making no move to bolt.

“So. You couldn't be in my body because--” he made growling noise and curled his hands to look like he had claws. Stiles was actually pretty impressed with how Derek was acting just like him. It was a little creepy.

“Exactly.” Rene was walking around the room, muttering as he slowly made a ring of black ash around Derek and Giamatti. Derek was forced to stand up, his eyes locking with Giamatti's as he squared his shoulders and growled.

Rene pulled out an old book, flipping through the pages and clearing his throat. Stiles turned to look at dark room as the light from the moon trickled in. The moon would be in full peak soon and all he think about was how he would never get to see Scott or his dad again. He should have said I love you more, should have showed he cared.

And then the fire started.

It wasn't an actual fire, just Scott, Isaac, Boyd, Erica and Peter and jumping down from the banisters and roof of the burnt out house, surrounding them. Stiles cheered a little as Erica cracked down on the top of Mercello and knocked him out with a large metal pipe.

“Hey Batman.” she grinned, looking over him and offering her hand to help him up. Stiles took it, brushing himself off and grinning wide.

“Hey there Catwoman.” they shared a small grin, the two of them turning now as Derek grabbed a large shard of glass and held it to his neck.

“Back off.” Giamatti held up his hands, taking a step back as Peter grabbed some rope and quickly tied the man up to the bannister. Derek threw the glass away, walking to Stiles and looking over him.

“You ok?” he asked finally, clapping a hand on his shoulder and looking for signs of hurt or uncomfortable motions. Stiles nodded, licking his lips and looking where Giamatti was tied. He frowned slightly, shaking his head.

“I don't like this. It was easy... nothing--”

“Don't SAY that!” Scott whined, looking up from where he had Rene bound and gagged. “This was not easy! We all had to be quiet and try telling that to Peter!” the older wolf scoffed and crossed his arms, looking over Giamatti.

“I agree...” Derek said softly. “The moon has only just risen... we are probably in for a long night...” there was a groan, Mercello waking up. Erica slammed him over the head again and the wolf crumbled. Stiles winced. He knew first hand how strong Erica's arm was when there was metal in it.

“Let's get out of here then.” Scott suggested. “Bury them alive or something. Just enough so that they won't be able to come after us until the blue moon is past and you two are in you—” there was a crack, all eyes turning to Giamatti who was looking down at his lap. Stiles took a step back as the skin cracked on his face and slowly peeled away like a shell.

“Uh.... Guys...” he took a step back, grabbing Derek by the shirt and dragging him towards the door. His eyes never left Giamatti. “Like... now. Please? I--” there was another crack as moon light seeped through the room. It barely touched Giamatti, but the man looked up with those flaming eyes. Rene was ungaged as Scott backed up to put himself next to Stiles, his eyes wide.

“Long live the Phoenix.” Rene called as the binds broke in a blinding light. Stiles and Derek were forced back against the wall by the light and the rest of the pack were sent to the floor. Fire scattered over the burnt out house, Peter scurrying away from it as he watched with wide eyes filled with fear.

“What the--” Giamattie stood, face contorted into something that looked similar to that of a beta wolf, though the extra hair was feathers, golden and dancing with fires. Wings spread over his back, expansive and sending some of the beams crashing to the ground. He let out a call, screeching like a bird as he turned his eyes to Stiles and Derek.

“OUT!” Peter yelled, grabbing Erica and Isaac and throwing them out of the house while Boyd grabbed Derek and Scott raced after Stiles. They were out of the house when it slowly started to collapse, fire setting the timber left aflame and three bodies walking out. Rene was muttering under his breath, the book still firmly held in his hand, Mercello snarling as he shifted into his full Alpha form. Stiles took a step back, about to shift into wolf form too, when a hand was on his shoulder.

“Don't you dare, Stilinski.” he blinked, turning to see Deaton and Jackson standing with a group of four wolves. Jackson grinned eyes flashing bright red.

“Holy FUCK!” Stiles cried Deaton sending him a smile and then turning his eyes on Rene. The two locked eyes, sparks flying between them, and spells suddenly flying through the air.

“DEREK!” Scott yelled, Stiles already turning away from the battle as he watched Jackson turn into an Alpha wolf. The other four in Beta form and following in perfect formation behind him. Stiles would have to ask about it when he wasn't running for his life.

They turned, Boyd and Isaac protecting the two as they tried to rush towards the cars. A bright light passed before them, a fireball crashing onto the cars and setting both the Camaro and the Jeep aflame.

“GET THEM!” a voice called, Stiles looking to see that Giamatti had made _fire gollums_ , tiny creatures from the ashes of the house that were no taller than Stiles' knees. He swallowed every step they took set the grass on fire, spreading through the entire clearing as they progressed towards Derek and Stiles.

“Ok. So, this is probably the most epic thing I will ever see in my entire life. And I'm going to die.” Stiles moaned the gollums circling the two of them and forcing them back to back. Stiles had picked up a metal pipe and was swinging it at them in an attempt to make a gap.

“Just shut up and let me think!” Derek said, trying to run through the space Stiles had cleared, but more gollums appeared and filled the gaps.

“Just so you know...” Stiles started, but Derek interrupted him.

“I didn't meant to run out! I was so... confused about you, Stiles. I didn't mean to be a dick. It's just how I deal with conflict.”

“Well, it's a good thing you came back.” Stiles said sarcastically. “You would have missed your death!” Derek snorted, looking to Stiles.

“I'm not good with the whole... Word thing.” Derek mumbled, licking his lips and backing closer to Stiles. “But...You are in my body. You can _feel_ my wolf. Just, let the wolf take control for a moment, let the feelings of the animal wash over you and--” Stiles frowned even deeper, rolling his eyes three times.

“So... You are going to make me stop in the middle of a battle with a _phoenix_ to connect to your wolf? This seems like a _perfectly_ legitimate excuse to--”

“Would you stop talking and do what I asked, for ONCE?” Derek was all but shouting now making Stiles' jaw drop and his eyes flick over the man. He nodded, licking his lips and sighing.

“Ok! Ok! Oh my god...” he slowly closed his eyes, relaxing and feeling the tug of the wolf in the back of his mind.

_Meat. Meat. Meat._ Stiles could feel the growing hunger, the desire to hunt, to kill, to call for his pack. He pressed forward, letting his mind wander slowly into the recessed of Derek's wolfie brain and let the thoughts form around him. Most of the time they were small slivers of conversations, some so scattered he couldn't piece them together.

_“What are you doing here? This is private property.”_ _**You smell so good, who the hell are you?** _

_“Start the car, or I'm gonna rip your throat out. With my teeth.”_ _**I'm dying and you don't even care.** _

_“This. No fit.”_ _**It actually does fit. I just want you to pay attention to me.** _

_"I'm thinking about punching you in the face." W_ _**ith my lips.** _

_“Did you noticed I'm paralyzed from the neck down in 8 feet of water?”_ _**I hope we stay like this for a long time, I love feeling you against me.** _

_"Still got some teeth. Why don't you get down here a little closer, huh? We'll see how helpless I am."_ _**You hurt my mate, I'm going to** _ _ **kill** _ _**you.** _

Stiles broke out of the trance, licking his lips and gazing over the wolf with awe and shock.

“I don't want to run anymore.” he said simply, looking over him and sighing. “I'm sick of running.” and Derek grabbed Stiles' chin into a deep kiss. Stiles let out a whimper as he kissed back, nearly dropping the pipe and saying to hell with surviving.

“You dick!” he pulled away finally, tightening his grip on the pipe and slamming the gollums away. “you are no longer allowed to die, you hear me? You can't die.”

Derek grinned, his eyes sparkling as he nodded.

“Whatever you say, Stiles.” Deaton and Rene were still throwing spells at each other, the two locked in combat that was growing in intensity every moment it continued. Jackson and Peter were attacking Mercello who seemed to be beating them back pretty well, and the rest of the wolves were attacking Giamatti while avoiding the fires surrounding them.

“This is going no where. We need to--” Derek was about to say something, when there was an explosion and debris shot through his stomach and send him crippling over. Stiles was wide eyed as he looked over his own bleeding body.

“OH fuck...” Stiles whispered, his hands shaking as he pressed them to the wound to stop the bleeding. A thick piece of metal was through his side it looked like it missed his spinal cord by centimeters and he might survive if he got to a hospital soon. “Oh shit... no hey...” Stiles swallowed and grabbed his hand as he looked over him.

“It... it's fine...” Derek coughed lightly. Blood welling up in his mouth as it spilled over his chin “You'll be a good Alpha, you know that right? Just... don't let Peter kill my body. I really am fond--”

“STOP! You aren't going to die... Blood... Werewolf blood heals right?”

“Only... Alpha.” Derek said. Then his eyes widened and he shook his head. “No, Stil--”

“No! I got this... Will it turn me?” Derek swallowed his eyes widening as he coughed again.

“Stiles... it will take too--”

“Will. It. Turn. Me?” he asked, looking over Derek and feeling his eyes shift to bright red. Derek closed his eyes.

“I don't know. It might, it might make you just hungry or have a faster meta--” he coughed blood again, the bright red sending a stark contradiction to his pale skin. Stiles swallowed.

“Oh hell, who the fuck cares.” and he ripped a scratch down his arm and pressed it to Derek. There was a moment of coughing the man trying to swallow his own blood as well as Stiles' the pale flesh growing paler.

“NO!” there was a sound of a bird screeching, Giamatti looking over as he saw the moon slowly setting. “NO!” he took a step forward eyes looking over the fires that were slowly dying as the moon was slowly fading. Stiles looked over to Deaton, the man noticing the change in the moon and nodding as he continued to fight.

_“Alli permutat anima kimota.”_ Stiles swallowed, hearing the words flow over him slowly than he would have liked. Jackson's pack began to tackle Giamatti, the flames of his phoenix fire slowly dying as the moon was being force into the west.

“HURRY!” he shouted, Giamatti letting out a howl as he fought the pack off and tried to speed forward to the pair.

_“Alli permutat anima kimota. Alli permutat anima kimota!”_ Deaton finished, Stiles removing his wrist.

“Stiles!””Derek.” they both spoke a shiver running through them as something ripped through them. Stiles closed his eyes, biting his lip and hoping this works. When he opened them again, he was in so much pain, his body cold as he looked up at Derek.

“Stiles!” Derek all but whimpered, his hand running over his jaw. “Stay with me...”

“YOU FOOLS!” Giamatti called. _“accipe sacrificium pro te animam, mentem, in castitate. patitur tua puer ad hanc formam et adducite--”_ there was a snap, the trees shaking as Giamatti looked down. Rene was pausing the battle with Deaton, his hand slowly turning darker black and blow away like ash.

“He is not pure, Giamatti! The gods are angry with you!” he let out a wail of pain, his body all but blowing away in the wind as he took one step towards Giamatti with an outstretched hand. “Master!” and soon there was nothing left of the voodoo master. Giamatti looked over to Mercello, the man slowly blowing away in the wind.

“NO! NO! I'm not one of them! STOP! LET ME GO! NO!” he ran off to the flaming Hale house, though his body soon faded into ash as well, all of the black flakes whirling around Giamatti as they slowly started to attach to him.

“Fools... I AM GOD! You cannot Kill the phoenix. I shall rise from the ash and--” he let out a groan, Peter having shoved a pipe through him and giving him a grin.

“Take it from some one who's died. You aren't coming back.” and he ripped the pipe through, splitting Giamatti in half and sending pieces of him flying through the air like red hail. Stiles closed his eyes, the justice of the situation making him feel better than any of Derek's coddling.

“Stiles... I'm going to remove the metal. If the blood is going to heal you...”

“Do it.” Stiles said softly, gripping the grass at his side as Derek pulled the large shard out of him. Stiles let out a scream of pain, Scott rushing to his side and taking as much of the pain as he could muster. Isaac did the same on the other side, Erica grabbing his head and smiling down.

“You can't die, Batman. Who else will I fight?” Stiles took a breath, shaky and filled with pain as he looked down to his side.

“I take it back... Derek, you can be in this body... I bet you... you can handle the pain...” Stiles whined, closing his eyes once more and gripping the grass as he swallowed.

“I do miss your scent.” Derek said softly, leaning down and pressing their lips together once more, taking his share of Stiles' pain.

And the world went black.

Stiles woke up in the hospital with a very concerned Melissa standing over his bed. Stiles blinked a little, her face was nearly inches from his.

“Did you take the bite?” she asked with suspicion. Stiles shook his head, biting his lip.

“But I did drink werewolf blood.” she made a face and rose a brow. He looked down lifting his blankets and looking over the wound slowly.

Or where the wound should have been.

“Oh my god it works” Melissa gave him a look and crossed her arms.

“So, am I going to have to guess what happened or are you going to tell me about it?” Stiles paused a little, looking over his body again and biting his lip.

“Uh, guess.” he said, the door opening and Derek walking in to the room. Melissa rose a brow and stood up, letting the man settle in the seat by the bed. She shot a look over them once more before walking out and closing the door.

“Stiles.”

“Derek.” they were quiet for a moment. “So...” Stiles really didn't know what to say to the man.

“That night... the one where...” Derek started, looking away. “I wasn't hurting you... I was trying to hurt myself. I was angry with myself that... that I couldn't do anything... that you were helpless and I... I stood there unable to protect you. From Giamatti, from myself... hell, from anything.” he looked up at the teenager's eyes, looking over him. “I thought I didn't deserve to be happy.”

Stiles was quiet, listening to the words and feeling so moved by them. He wanted to say something just as profound, just as unique and special.

But this was Stiles.

“You think I'm gorgeous, you want to kiss me...You want to hug me... You want to love me... You want to mate me... You want to smooch me... You want to...” his song was interrupted by Derek's mouth finding his, their bodies pressing close as Stiles mewled.

“You're hurt...” Derek started, pulling away. Stiles grappled at him, tugging him tighter.

“No, no! Don't stop, Stiles likey--” the door opened then, Sheriff Stilinski looking over the two of them and then clearing his throat.

“Is... Is this a bad time, because I can come back--” Derek shook his head, standing up again and nodding to John.

“You deserve to see your son.” he frowned a little. “I'm sorry I didn't protect him as well as I promised.” John clapped Derek on the shoulder, their eyes meeting for a brief moment.

“He's alive. And that is all I asked.” they shared a smile before Derek left and closed the door behind him. Stiles sat up a little, looking over the man and took a deep breath.

“Hey dad.” John smiled, sitting down where Derek had been and running his fingers over a manilla envelope in his hand.

“Hey son.” he swallowed a little, looking over him. “Stiles, there is something... Something your mother and I never told you.” he ran his fingers through his hair. “And... Derek... brought it up, last night while you were...” he nodded to the bed, biting his lip. “I might not be your biological father. And Derek suggested that... we test it since we recovered...” he was quiet for a moment, handing the envelope over. “Well. It's yours to know.”

Stiles swallowed hard, hands shaking as he turned it over to read the neat typeface of the envelope.

**BioLife DNA tests, rushed requested results included.**

He slid his thumb through the top and pulled out the results, his hands shaking as he slowly read through the garbled data he didn't care about.

_**DNA #1 'Stiles' Brian Stilinski: Blood type AB+** _

_**DNA #2 Mauricio Francisco Giamatti: Blood type O+** _

_**Percentage of paternity based on Parentage Index: 6%** _

_**DNA #1 'Stiles' Brian Stilinski: Blood type AB+** _

_**DNA #2 Johnathon Brian Stilinski : Blood Type A-** _

_**Percentage of paternity based on Parentage Index: 89%** _

Stiles held the paper in his hands, looking over the results and sobbed in relief.

The next day they all gathered in the small veterinarian clinic at Deaton's request, Derek and his wolf pack standing to the side as Scott hovered protectively over Stiles with out any let go

“I'm sure you all were wondering about what happened the night of the blue moon.” Deaton filled in, a dog barking on the other side of the wall. Derek shot a look and snarled, the barking ceasing.

“Yeah, actually. Like, how come my body wasn't pure?” Stiles asked, crossing his arms and raising a brow. “Like... It wasn't the werewolf blood because I didn't turn into a wolf. So I was human...”

“Stiles, it wasn't that you weren't pure. It had nothing to do with you. Giamatti was dead long before the fight even happened.” Stiles was confused. It seemed everyone else was too, so the teenager continued his questions.

“Deaton, he was pretty much alive when he forced me to drive into Beacon Hills so they--” Something caught his attention in that statement. “The powerful spell... the one that was hiding Beacon Hills... Was that--”

“Me.” the vet said, humming a little. “Yes, Stiles. I have been hiding Beacon Hills from Giamatti and his men since your family moved into Beacon Hills. It was my duty to protect you and your family from this ever happening. But, because I'm growing old... they slipped through my defense. When I _did_ gain control once more, the spell worked perfectly on the two minions.” he paused, something flashing over his face.

“The man himself...” Deaton let his voice roll over in a chuckle that sounded so evil to Stiles. “Well, he deserved to be killed like a man.” Peter grinned a little, nodding as he leaned against the wall.

Stiles didn't want to _ever_ get on the man's bad side.

“Well, thanks for clearing that bit up. And... Jackson? He didn't tell me who called him and his pack but I assume that was you?” Deaton was quiet, then let out a huff. Derek turned away, his eyes not looking up.

“The two weeks you were missing, Derek was calling every contact he could think of for a search party. Jackson and those wolves were only there after he pleaded and begged for them to come help find you. And then it took extra convincing on Lydia's part for them to take more than just Jackson. Derek was looking out for you, even if he didn't want you to know.”

Stiles swallowed, looking up over Derek and shooting him a smile. Derek must have felt the eyes on him because he looked up and let his mouth form a small smile back. They would have to have a _serious_ talk about everything that had happened these past few months.

But Stiles knew it would end up alright.

“One more question. Giamatti said something about the creature of light and creature of darkness. Which was he?” Deaton shot him a look, but didn't contradict him in any way.

“Stiles, man is not meant to live forever. His mind will fade just as much as his body, a cancer corrupting the spirit. He was nearly a thousand years old, delusional that he was a chosen creature to purify the world. But he was a man, Stiles. A man with a very powerful friend who believed he was a god. Magic can make us see things that aren't there. Make us.. crazy... He was not a Phoenix, I don't think he was even human. At best, he was originally an Alpha wolf who thought himself a god.”

Stiles licked his lips, everything Deaton had said made sense. Giamatti was a person, not a creature from mythology. A person who had been tricking people like Rene to follow him through the path _he_ deemed right.

In the end, they were just scared of what was on the other side.

They were _human._


	10. Epilouge

**One year later.**

Stiles stepped off the airplane, running a hand through his thick hair and adjusting his backpack. Derek trudged after him, dragging their carry ons with a smile that could have rivaled Allison's.

Dimples and All

They hadn't told anyone they were coming home, so naturally everyone was waiting for them with a large sign that said 'Welcome Back Stiles and Derek'.

He couldn't help but smile as Scott broke formation and grabbed him in the tightest hug he could muster. Isaac and Erica grinned at him, Peter looking like he didn't want to be there, and Boyd nodded lightly. There was someone he didn't recognize at first, but it turned out to be a very bleach blonde Danny. He smiled at Stiles.

“You asshole! Three months, no texts or email... What the hell did you do in London?” Stiles grinned, hugging Scott back just as tightly and nuzzling into him with a sigh of contentment. Derek allowed the pack to come over and cuddle up into him. Stiles shot his a glance and the alpha rolled his eyes.

“Well, apparently Jackson's pack doesn't believe in the internet... or cellphone towers. Dude, we were like in log cabins and no one wore shirts. It was like I was surrounded by Abercrombie and Fitch models the entire time. I gained a six pack just to make friends.” Scott blinked, lifting the shirt and gasping at the teen.

“You look amazing!” Derek growled at Scott who backed off a little, holding his hands up in retreat. “Sorry! Forgot about the whole touching thing...”

Stiles rolled his eyes and motioned for them to continue walking. “No, he's just on edge because until now he had me to himself. No one in Jackson's pack wanted to even shake my hand. They were all afraid of Sourwolf.” Derek shot him a look and sighed, curling his arm protectively around his waist.

“It's because you are an Alpha Mate.” Stiles shot him a look and rolled his eyes.

“So is Lydia, but they had no problem serving her hand and foot.” Scott grinned a little, grabbing Stiles' bags and directing Boyd to grab Derek's. Stiles let out a huff and walked in the direction of the cars. “I thought this would be fun, like... y'know. Sun, surf, Dr. who.., Sex...”

“Stiles, we were forming a treaty with a pack, not on vacation” Derek corrected him, shoving the bags in the new SUV Derek had bought Stiles to replace Betty. He would always love Betty, but Bridget was working on him.

“But still, we could have at least had the se--”

“If you shut up, we can have it when we get to the loft.” Derek said in a hushed tone, letting a smooth grin cross his face. Stiles shut up immediately and they finished packing the car.

Stiles was unpacking Derek's stuff into the large ornate dresser, wondering how exactly life had ended up this way. He and Derek had been together nearly a year now, and much to Stiles' surprise, it was an easy relationship.

They had basically just added sex to the relationship they had already formed and talked a lot more. Stiles didn't mind any of it, even if Derek did get a little territorial about everything. And he meant everything.

Something grabbed him around the waist and threw him to the bed, jumping on top and straddling him. Two large hands held her wrists down and a mouth connected with his, sending a surge of want through his body.

“Hello” Derek growled against his lips, biting down hard on his bottom lip. Stiles arched up and whimpered into his lips, grinning.

“Hey yourself.” he murmured back, easily breaking free and sitting up to kiss him slowly and tenderly. Derek rolled them over so Stiles was on top, grabbing his face and pulled him on top of Derek, crashing their lips together. Stiles pressed his crotch lightly against Derek's, chuckling against his lips and pressing his body tightly to the alpha.

“I missed us being alone” Derek said softly, rocking up against the teenager and holding his hips tightly with fingers. “And you naked. I missed you naked.” immediately, Stiles' hand shot up to cup his chin and pull him closer. Derek's eyes were red with lust as he leaned back, their lips never parting from each other. Derek's lips opened up and Stiles' tongue lashed out into the parted lips, ferocity building between them as they grabbed and held at each other's arms and neck.

Derek swept up and bit down hard on Stiles' tender neck, making him yelp in pleasure. The alpha growled as he moved to nuzzle the teen's neck as they ground harder against each other. Stiles threw his head back, eyes rolling back into his head as Derek began stripping him.

“Oh god, do you know how much I want you right now?” Stiles asked, as Derek grabbed a pink nipple between his lips and bit down possessively. Stiles let out a moan as they parted so Stiles could finish undressing. Stiles was breathing heavily as Derek looked over him with a grin.

“Tell me.” his hands grabbed the now naked Stiles and tugged him back onto his lap, their cocks brushing against each other. “Tell me how much you want me.” he grabbed the lube from the bedside table, slicking a finger and teasing it at Stiles' entrance. The teen shivered as the slik fingers teased his entrance.

“I can't think, can't breath, can't _function..._ I keep thinking about how perfectly you slide into me.” He shuddered as Derek finally slipped two fingers into him. Stiles squirmed against his fingers, trying to wrestle Derek's shirt off.

Derek growled and pulled his fingers out, ripping off his shirt and started to unzip his jeans. Stiles could feel want swelling in his body as he removed Derek's pants to reveal a slightly damp pair of silk boxers. With shaking fingers, he began to slowly slide the thin fabric off of his swelling cock. Stiles gasped as Derek slid his fingers back into him and breathed hot air into his ear.

“Do you want my knot?” Derek asked, as Stiles slide his hand thought the thick black hair. Brown eyes meeting wolf-red and shudders rack his body.

“Yes. Fuck, Derek I want you to take me. Own me, fucking claim me!” Derek pulled Stiles up on top of him and slowly lowered the teen on to him. Stiles opened his mouth in a silent scream as he felt Derek's length slide through his defenses. His body morphed around the wolf's cock, as he gently began to rock against it, body bouncing in time with his thrusts.

Slowly they picked up a rhythm and began to thrust and push harder than before, the bed rocking fast. Stiles could feel his heart pounding against his chest as Derek's cock grew deeper and stronger with every jab, the tip brushing inside him and pounding mercilessly against the prostate.

“Oh god...Derek...” Stiles moaned, his cock aching to be touched by the wolf. As if reading his mind, Derek's fingers wrapped around the bobbing length and began stroking it in time.

“That's right...Scream my name, Stiles...” Derek huffed, his hands moving faster against the cock.

“Derek....Oh, fuck Derek so fucking...” Stiles moaned loudly, Derek thrusting up as his knot began to push entrance.

“Close, Stiles... going to knot you..” he shivered, slamming harder as Stiles let out a final moan before coming over the wolf's hand. Derek took three more thrusts before his knot swelled and he came. Stiles gripped the wolf's hair tighter, rocking up and milking his cock for everything he could.

They sat there, panting with their sweaty foreheads pressed together as sloppy kisses were exchanged. Stiles closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of Derek and sex. It was intoxicating.

“Stiles.” Derek said after a while, the teen opening his eyes to look the wolf in the face. Derek was soft, a small smile pressed to his lips as he kissed Stiles. The teen was too tired to argue about anything, enjoying the attention from his mate.

“Stiles, I have a serious question.” Derek asked, making Stiles pout slightly as he rolled his eyes.

“Fine, what is it?” Derek hesitated for a second, before leaning in and nipping his ear lobe.

“Do you like sex with me better in my body or yours?”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and commenting! Hope you'll look for my work in the future!
> 
> -Hediren <3


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